splodgenoodles: (Default)
This week I have two trips out that must be made.

Although I am feeling much better than I have in recent times (touchwood and sssshhhh....because it might hear me), I resent medical appointments. Fair enough, I guess - I'd rather be doing things that are fun and/or interesting, but I don't yet feel confident to book in too many of those.

If I ever recover from this disease, what I really want to do is have a holiday. People talk about wanting to return to the workforce, be productive, be a good and valued person and I want to do all those things (why the hell do you think I've become so obsessive about knitting and in particular, finishing every project I start), and fair enough for most of us that's a non-negotiable wish simply because otherwise we are at or below the poverty line, but what people don't get when they are making moral judgements about sick people is this:

We don't get holidays.

We don't get weekends.

We don't get the evenings off.

We don't even get toilet breaks.

Being in the "sick role" might mean that society excuses you from certain obligations (well, sometimes) but it puts you under certain other obligations if you are to meet with any kind of approval. And one of those obligations is to not admit that you really want a fucking holiday and that if you had a choice, you'd not be sick but nor would you be working 9-6, you'd be having a bloody rest from it all.

Me, I'd travel. No idea how far. I'd walk a lot. I'd just wander. It's not something I've been able to do for a mighty long time and I used to love just wandering about.

Sometimes I daydream about just wandering. Just walking down different streets and following my nose. And meeting people and chatting to strangers and seeing where it gets me.

Don't get me wrong, I do miss work. But mostly because sometimes I managed to have work where I was paid to do the above. Oh, and I miss peak hour. I really miss being part of the crowd of people racing from one platform to another to catch the connecting train. I don't miss the trip home of an evening, because I nearly always came home late so trains were infrequent and quiet and lacked the hum of life that they had in the mornings - it was a much more solitary affair.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
This week I have two trips out that must be made.

Although I am feeling much better than I have in recent times (touchwood and sssshhhh....because it might hear me), I resent medical appointments. Fair enough, I guess - I'd rather be doing things that are fun and/or interesting, but I don't yet feel confident to book in too many of those.

If I ever recover from this disease, what I really want to do is have a holiday. People talk about wanting to return to the workforce, be productive, be a good and valued person and I want to do all those things (why the hell do you think I've become so obsessive about knitting and in particular, finishing every project I start), and fair enough for most of us that's a non-negotiable wish simply because otherwise we are at or below the poverty line, but what people don't get when they are making moral judgements about sick people is this:

We don't get holidays.

We don't get weekends.

We don't get the evenings off.

We don't even get toilet breaks.

Being in the "sick role" might mean that society excuses you from certain obligations (well, sometimes) but it puts you under certain other obligations if you are to meet with any kind of approval. And one of those obligations is to not admit that you really want a fucking holiday and that if you had a choice, you'd not be sick but nor would you be working 9-6, you'd be having a bloody rest from it all.

Me, I'd travel. No idea how far. I'd walk a lot. I'd just wander. It's not something I've been able to do for a mighty long time and I used to love just wandering about.

Sometimes I daydream about just wandering. Just walking down different streets and following my nose. And meeting people and chatting to strangers and seeing where it gets me.

Don't get me wrong, I do miss work. But mostly because sometimes I managed to have work where I was paid to do the above. Oh, and I miss peak hour. I really miss being part of the crowd of people racing from one platform to another to catch the connecting train. I don't miss the trip home of an evening, because I nearly always came home late so trains were infrequent and quiet and lacked the hum of life that they had in the mornings - it was a much more solitary affair.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Why am I dithering today?

I've done a few things, but not the thing I want most to do. I'm doing everything but that.

Okay - it's 3:28 Go in there now and work on it until 4. Then review.

After 4 you may either
-continue if you want,
-rest,
-put a load of laundry through,
-sort out cat bed,
-do stomach excercises.

Possibly all five.

Nothing needs attending to between now and then. You have lemon water, sustagen and a heater. 10B is out playing happily in the shed, he doesn't need or want your attention right now.


Your shit together you may get, young Noodle.

Go for it.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Why am I dithering today?

I've done a few things, but not the thing I want most to do. I'm doing everything but that.

Okay - it's 3:28 Go in there now and work on it until 4. Then review.

After 4 you may either
-continue if you want,
-rest,
-put a load of laundry through,
-sort out cat bed,
-do stomach excercises.

Possibly all five.

Nothing needs attending to between now and then. You have lemon water, sustagen and a heater. 10B is out playing happily in the shed, he doesn't need or want your attention right now.


Your shit together you may get, young Noodle.

Go for it.

*yawn*

May. 20th, 2008 09:01 am
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Got a grand total of about five hours sleep last night, I'm hoping to tough it out today and go to bed at 10PMish. I'm throwing every behavioural strategy I've got at this, in the hopes I can keep with the (relatively) early rising business.

That's not entirely true of course, I really only got up because I couldn't sleep. Otherwise I'd still be there. It's just that I'd rather make my upness part of a clever and brave plan to improve my lot in life. And now I'm up, I'm yawning my head off and really wishing I was back in bed. And I really only couldn't sleep because the pathology nurse failed to show yesterday so I was stressing out about that, as I'm sure anyone would because the world will come to an end if your pathology nurse is a day late. And don't even get me started on what happens if your towels are folded wrong.

~~~

I have come to the conclusion that I have a constant level of anxiety regardless of circumstance so I'll be just as stressed in this situation as I would be if I were say, a high-powered diplomat and maybe a spy and now that I know this, I think it's safe for me to apply for jobs that say "must be able to handle a high pressure workplace" and explain that I lose a bit of sleep if the towels are folded wrong but it's okay, because if that's the worst that happens when the towels are folded wrong, then I'm pretty sure I can handle anything.

I'm sure they'll be impressed, you can read all about it when I publish my memoirs.

~~~

We have just been cat wrangling - Fuzzychops had to go to the vet for tests today. Getting her in the box involves brooms for the prodding when she hides behind the bath, and hands for the grabbing when she briefly is within reach and then much door opening and closing to ensure that she and InsideCat do not have to know of each other's existence, because then the world would come to an end, you know how it is with cats.

Anyway, she's there now with 10B. That's assuming she hasn't escaped from the box, hijacked the van and gone bush.

They're just routine old-cat blood tests, but she does take on so.

~~~

Shit, I can hear sirens.

*yawn*

May. 20th, 2008 09:01 am
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Got a grand total of about five hours sleep last night, I'm hoping to tough it out today and go to bed at 10PMish. I'm throwing every behavioural strategy I've got at this, in the hopes I can keep with the (relatively) early rising business.

That's not entirely true of course, I really only got up because I couldn't sleep. Otherwise I'd still be there. It's just that I'd rather make my upness part of a clever and brave plan to improve my lot in life. And now I'm up, I'm yawning my head off and really wishing I was back in bed. And I really only couldn't sleep because the pathology nurse failed to show yesterday so I was stressing out about that, as I'm sure anyone would because the world will come to an end if your pathology nurse is a day late. And don't even get me started on what happens if your towels are folded wrong.

~~~

I have come to the conclusion that I have a constant level of anxiety regardless of circumstance so I'll be just as stressed in this situation as I would be if I were say, a high-powered diplomat and maybe a spy and now that I know this, I think it's safe for me to apply for jobs that say "must be able to handle a high pressure workplace" and explain that I lose a bit of sleep if the towels are folded wrong but it's okay, because if that's the worst that happens when the towels are folded wrong, then I'm pretty sure I can handle anything.

I'm sure they'll be impressed, you can read all about it when I publish my memoirs.

~~~

We have just been cat wrangling - Fuzzychops had to go to the vet for tests today. Getting her in the box involves brooms for the prodding when she hides behind the bath, and hands for the grabbing when she briefly is within reach and then much door opening and closing to ensure that she and InsideCat do not have to know of each other's existence, because then the world would come to an end, you know how it is with cats.

Anyway, she's there now with 10B. That's assuming she hasn't escaped from the box, hijacked the van and gone bush.

They're just routine old-cat blood tests, but she does take on so.

~~~

Shit, I can hear sirens.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
So I just had this phone conversation with someone about how other people experience a certain situation compared to how I experience it. It was most enlightening and

now I'm just quietly giggling inside

and pondering the madness of it all.




Ah dear me. Humans!

How did we make it this far?


~~~~

You mad bastards.

I love youse all.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
So I just had this phone conversation with someone about how other people experience a certain situation compared to how I experience it. It was most enlightening and

now I'm just quietly giggling inside

and pondering the madness of it all.




Ah dear me. Humans!

How did we make it this far?


~~~~

You mad bastards.

I love youse all.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] tenbears and I went a little crazy and tidied up some house yesterday. We even made a few sensible decisions about furniture placement and such. This was great, but I'm feeling it today. Am off to lie in the bath for a really long time I think.

~~~~

I do need something other than knitting and crochet in my life. Having said that, doing one or the other with an audio book isn't a bad way to spend a few hours. But it's not something I'll throw myself into the way I did when, for example, I first realised just how much satisfaction I was getting out of LJ a few years ago. (That was when I had one of those moments where you think "I could go really crazy with this...would that be a good idea or a bad idea?" Followed by "Well fuck, why not try it and see what happens?" So for a while there, I jumped right in and blogged to the nth degree and had a whale of time and got much personal satisfaction from the whole thing, on a whole bunch of levels. But the point is, that's not what's happenning with handcrafts. It's something I like as an adjunct to other things. If all I do in a day is knit, I get kind of cranky and weird.)

I've realised I don't like putting dates on when I start and finish projects, because then I find myself contemplating how much of my life has just gone into this or that little project and I spiral downhill into existential angst. I've also observed that a lot of the satisfaction I get is the challenge of learning rather than the process itself.

~~~~

I can feel one of those life stocktakes coming on.

~~~~

I have been keeping a sleep diary for my forthcoming sleep study. They give you the questionnaire with all the dates filled in for a fortnight. You just fill in the little boxes every day. This all sounds straightforward but I am somehow a day ahead. And I did start on the right day...oh well.

~~~~

But getting back to the yarn stuff that I'm totally not obsessed with, I'm amazed at how quickly one builds up a yarn stash. It's like it breeds. And I will confess that while I'm realising I don't get joy from knitting every damn day (and am making a point of not doing so because it's not really wise anyway), I really enjoy ogling my stash.

How fucked up is that? Thank god I blog under a pseudonym.

~~~~

Oh and I think I had a positive personal epiphany last night with bonus momentary sense of connection to Something Greater and no, there was no sex or masturbation involved (nor intense sublimation of same).

Memo to self: allow this to happen more often.

~~~~

Anyway, I'm off to frot some wool then go have a much needed bath. I'm a bit worried that I'm starting to become one of those recluses who smell funny.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] tenbears and I went a little crazy and tidied up some house yesterday. We even made a few sensible decisions about furniture placement and such. This was great, but I'm feeling it today. Am off to lie in the bath for a really long time I think.

~~~~

I do need something other than knitting and crochet in my life. Having said that, doing one or the other with an audio book isn't a bad way to spend a few hours. But it's not something I'll throw myself into the way I did when, for example, I first realised just how much satisfaction I was getting out of LJ a few years ago. (That was when I had one of those moments where you think "I could go really crazy with this...would that be a good idea or a bad idea?" Followed by "Well fuck, why not try it and see what happens?" So for a while there, I jumped right in and blogged to the nth degree and had a whale of time and got much personal satisfaction from the whole thing, on a whole bunch of levels. But the point is, that's not what's happenning with handcrafts. It's something I like as an adjunct to other things. If all I do in a day is knit, I get kind of cranky and weird.)

I've realised I don't like putting dates on when I start and finish projects, because then I find myself contemplating how much of my life has just gone into this or that little project and I spiral downhill into existential angst. I've also observed that a lot of the satisfaction I get is the challenge of learning rather than the process itself.

~~~~

I can feel one of those life stocktakes coming on.

~~~~

I have been keeping a sleep diary for my forthcoming sleep study. They give you the questionnaire with all the dates filled in for a fortnight. You just fill in the little boxes every day. This all sounds straightforward but I am somehow a day ahead. And I did start on the right day...oh well.

~~~~

But getting back to the yarn stuff that I'm totally not obsessed with, I'm amazed at how quickly one builds up a yarn stash. It's like it breeds. And I will confess that while I'm realising I don't get joy from knitting every damn day (and am making a point of not doing so because it's not really wise anyway), I really enjoy ogling my stash.

How fucked up is that? Thank god I blog under a pseudonym.

~~~~

Oh and I think I had a positive personal epiphany last night with bonus momentary sense of connection to Something Greater and no, there was no sex or masturbation involved (nor intense sublimation of same).

Memo to self: allow this to happen more often.

~~~~

Anyway, I'm off to frot some wool then go have a much needed bath. I'm a bit worried that I'm starting to become one of those recluses who smell funny.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
On my fairly deliberate avoidance of people who have colds someone recently said:

"In some places, everyone just accepts that you get sick round about now, with the change of seasons.

I don't see why you should be any different."


I tend to assume that when one person complains or comments about something, there's another ten (at least) who agree but choose to keep their mouths shut.

So. This is for those ten (at least) people.

1. Because I am different. My body works differently. I am immuno-suppressed. The medications for Crohn's Disease are *all* immunosuppressants. ME/CFS - the disease that actually cripples me - appears to be one of weird auto-immunity as well. Whenever their are public health warnings addressed to the aged, parents, and people with medical conditions - that last one is me.


2. I get the ordinary old cold that everyone else gets, magnified several times. You'll be better within a week to ten days, back to normal within a fortnight, three weeks if you're unlucky. I won't be. It's not just the change of seasons for me, it's the whole fucking season.

3. Plus the secondary infections.

4. This whole damn ME/CFS nightmare appears to have been triggered by a cold. Not influenza, not pneumonia, nothing exotic. A cold. So whenever I get one, I really have no idea what will be left of me when it's over. I say it just takes me longer to get back to my normal (if rather depressingly low) baseline, but this is me putting on a brave face (mostly for the comfort of others). I never know that I will actually get back to where I was. You can call this paranoia if you like, but given what life's been like this last (almost) ten years, I think it's quite justified.

5. There is a false egalitarianism going on with this attitude. As well as ignoring the fact of immuno-suppression, the idea that I'm no better or worse off than anyone else, just different ignores objective difference in capacity for action of any kind. Capacity for living normally. Capacity to excercise the same choices and fulfill the same obligations as my healthy peers. My capacity is somewhere down at sea level compared to most people.** This is objective fact. Therefore I have less room to move before I really do find myself drowning.

6. Missing out on one social occasion matters to me far more than it does to most people: I struggle to keep up at the best of times and in general I don't. In general, I'm isolated and as time passes, more so. Every little activity is important to me. I can't make up for it in a week, or two, or three. Time matters in the maintenance of a life, and it doesn't wait for us. Missing out on yet another several months of opportunities to communicate and interact with people - it matters. And it's a cumulative thing. As time goes on it matters more, not less.

7. Staring at the walls and feeling bloody sick for weeks on end doesn't become an okay way to live - just different - ever. The fact that the best I can hope for is to graduate from that to sitting around and feeling sick when I try and do anything remotely normal with my life doesn't make it okay. You might be willing to accept it as my lot in life, I'm not.

8. I'm sure there was more but I'm buggered.

In deference to LJs new emphasis on clean living, I didn't preface or conclude any of these points with "fuck you sideways with a pineapple". If you still need convincing, please insert this comment accordingly.


**Before anyone jumps in with irrelevant platitudes, I do not say this through lack of self esteem, I say this because it's objectively true. How well people use the capacity they've got is a different topic, not relevant here.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
On my fairly deliberate avoidance of people who have colds someone recently said:

"In some places, everyone just accepts that you get sick round about now, with the change of seasons.

I don't see why you should be any different."


I tend to assume that when one person complains or comments about something, there's another ten (at least) who agree but choose to keep their mouths shut.

So. This is for those ten (at least) people.

1. Because I am different. My body works differently. I am immuno-suppressed. The medications for Crohn's Disease are *all* immunosuppressants. ME/CFS - the disease that actually cripples me - appears to be one of weird auto-immunity as well. Whenever their are public health warnings addressed to the aged, parents, and people with medical conditions - that last one is me.


2. I get the ordinary old cold that everyone else gets, magnified several times. You'll be better within a week to ten days, back to normal within a fortnight, three weeks if you're unlucky. I won't be. It's not just the change of seasons for me, it's the whole fucking season.

3. Plus the secondary infections.

4. This whole damn ME/CFS nightmare appears to have been triggered by a cold. Not influenza, not pneumonia, nothing exotic. A cold. So whenever I get one, I really have no idea what will be left of me when it's over. I say it just takes me longer to get back to my normal (if rather depressingly low) baseline, but this is me putting on a brave face (mostly for the comfort of others). I never know that I will actually get back to where I was. You can call this paranoia if you like, but given what life's been like this last (almost) ten years, I think it's quite justified.

5. There is a false egalitarianism going on with this attitude. As well as ignoring the fact of immuno-suppression, the idea that I'm no better or worse off than anyone else, just different ignores objective difference in capacity for action of any kind. Capacity for living normally. Capacity to excercise the same choices and fulfill the same obligations as my healthy peers. My capacity is somewhere down at sea level compared to most people.** This is objective fact. Therefore I have less room to move before I really do find myself drowning.

6. Missing out on one social occasion matters to me far more than it does to most people: I struggle to keep up at the best of times and in general I don't. In general, I'm isolated and as time passes, more so. Every little activity is important to me. I can't make up for it in a week, or two, or three. Time matters in the maintenance of a life, and it doesn't wait for us. Missing out on yet another several months of opportunities to communicate and interact with people - it matters. And it's a cumulative thing. As time goes on it matters more, not less.

7. Staring at the walls and feeling bloody sick for weeks on end doesn't become an okay way to live - just different - ever. The fact that the best I can hope for is to graduate from that to sitting around and feeling sick when I try and do anything remotely normal with my life doesn't make it okay. You might be willing to accept it as my lot in life, I'm not.

8. I'm sure there was more but I'm buggered.

In deference to LJs new emphasis on clean living, I didn't preface or conclude any of these points with "fuck you sideways with a pineapple". If you still need convincing, please insert this comment accordingly.


**Before anyone jumps in with irrelevant platitudes, I do not say this through lack of self esteem, I say this because it's objectively true. How well people use the capacity they've got is a different topic, not relevant here.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
We have had some real, proper rain.

My mentality has changed so much. Rain is now luxuriant. Hot, sunny dry weather is oppressive, bleak and depressing. When it's sunny I feel afraid for our future, dry and exposed.

Of course I never liked the north wind much anyway, but now I love clouds and showers and wet more than I ever thought possible.

~~~

I am still fascinated by knitting and becoming convinced it's doing good things for the brain.

~~~

I've just finished reading Northern Lights, which is the first of Pullman's His Dark Materials and the basis of the film The Golden Compass which I've not yet seen. Enjoyed it heartily once I passed the first few chapters and my customary reticence to give over and enter another reality. (I wish I knew what that reticence is about.) Enjoyed it enough that I'm reluctant to read the second book as it might overwhelm me (there it goes again) or worse, might disappoint me.

He does some good unexpected twists, definitely not in the mould of C.S. Lewis.

I've just begun a tome on the Etruscans called (wait for it) The Etruscans, by Keller, first published English in 1975... I'm taking notes on cards, just like I did back at uni, to help me remember and process information, rather than allow myself to glaze over and get foggy. Also, I'm doing my reading in very small chunks, alternating with knitting, staring at things and desultory conversation when available.

Doing stuff on cards is also an attempt to pull myself away from Dave more, lovely though he is, because I feel that sitting in front of Dave has just become too automatic and my default way of being. That and I seem to have forgotten how to write. You know, with a pen.

~~~

Language learning is on the back burner - I've loaded both Chinese and French stuff onto Dave but now feel like I've got enough other stuff on my brain-plate for a while.

~~~

These days I seem to feel very quiet a lot of the time. Not distressed, quite comfy and content a lot of the time. But quiet.

~~~

Medical. )
splodgenoodles: (Default)
We have had some real, proper rain.

My mentality has changed so much. Rain is now luxuriant. Hot, sunny dry weather is oppressive, bleak and depressing. When it's sunny I feel afraid for our future, dry and exposed.

Of course I never liked the north wind much anyway, but now I love clouds and showers and wet more than I ever thought possible.

~~~

I am still fascinated by knitting and becoming convinced it's doing good things for the brain.

~~~

I've just finished reading Northern Lights, which is the first of Pullman's His Dark Materials and the basis of the film The Golden Compass which I've not yet seen. Enjoyed it heartily once I passed the first few chapters and my customary reticence to give over and enter another reality. (I wish I knew what that reticence is about.) Enjoyed it enough that I'm reluctant to read the second book as it might overwhelm me (there it goes again) or worse, might disappoint me.

He does some good unexpected twists, definitely not in the mould of C.S. Lewis.

I've just begun a tome on the Etruscans called (wait for it) The Etruscans, by Keller, first published English in 1975... I'm taking notes on cards, just like I did back at uni, to help me remember and process information, rather than allow myself to glaze over and get foggy. Also, I'm doing my reading in very small chunks, alternating with knitting, staring at things and desultory conversation when available.

Doing stuff on cards is also an attempt to pull myself away from Dave more, lovely though he is, because I feel that sitting in front of Dave has just become too automatic and my default way of being. That and I seem to have forgotten how to write. You know, with a pen.

~~~

Language learning is on the back burner - I've loaded both Chinese and French stuff onto Dave but now feel like I've got enough other stuff on my brain-plate for a while.

~~~

These days I seem to feel very quiet a lot of the time. Not distressed, quite comfy and content a lot of the time. But quiet.

~~~

Medical. )
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Here is an interview with a chap from the Black Dog Institute. It goes for just under seven minutes.

He feels this latest bit of research is flawed.

The flaw: the research studies that find no difference to placebo are randomised control trials and for ethical reasons, randomised control trials are more inclined to rule people out than in: in other words, no one is included if they are suicidal, if they ill enough to be an inpatient, if they have anxiety, other personality or psych. issues. And people are paid for their participation. So they aren't representative of people suffering depression. They represent only a portion of people suffering fairly mild depression with zero complications.

He likens it to testing a drug for pneumonia on people suffering from a cold.

~~~

He also suggests that it's a rehash of a similar article published by the same researcher a couple of years ago, which got headlines back then too. This is mentioned about half way through the interview as a side issue, but I take it to mean he thinks the guy is on a bit of crusade.

Nice to know I'm not the only person that wondered about that: bells went off for me as soon as I saw references to FOI legislation. Not because there's anything wrong with using that, in fact that's precisely why it's there, but because I feel the use of FOI has been presented as though that supports the veracity of his findings. It does not prove anything one way or the other.

~~~

I guess one of the downsides of the normalisation of depression (ie- it's a nasty disease that can happen to anyone and can be treated and recovered from) is that everyone now thinks they know what it is. This simultaneously relieves people of stigma but creates new problems when a presumption is made of understanding where understanding has not actually occurred.

~~~

Cripes, I do declare I've just had an attack of clear thinking, albeit somewhat diluted by verbal dysentery. I've spent the day sprawled with my feet up - I think it's paying off.

Medical blahblahblah. )
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Here is an interview with a chap from the Black Dog Institute. It goes for just under seven minutes.

He feels this latest bit of research is flawed.

The flaw: the research studies that find no difference to placebo are randomised control trials and for ethical reasons, randomised control trials are more inclined to rule people out than in: in other words, no one is included if they are suicidal, if they ill enough to be an inpatient, if they have anxiety, other personality or psych. issues. And people are paid for their participation. So they aren't representative of people suffering depression. They represent only a portion of people suffering fairly mild depression with zero complications.

He likens it to testing a drug for pneumonia on people suffering from a cold.

~~~

He also suggests that it's a rehash of a similar article published by the same researcher a couple of years ago, which got headlines back then too. This is mentioned about half way through the interview as a side issue, but I take it to mean he thinks the guy is on a bit of crusade.

Nice to know I'm not the only person that wondered about that: bells went off for me as soon as I saw references to FOI legislation. Not because there's anything wrong with using that, in fact that's precisely why it's there, but because I feel the use of FOI has been presented as though that supports the veracity of his findings. It does not prove anything one way or the other.

~~~

I guess one of the downsides of the normalisation of depression (ie- it's a nasty disease that can happen to anyone and can be treated and recovered from) is that everyone now thinks they know what it is. This simultaneously relieves people of stigma but creates new problems when a presumption is made of understanding where understanding has not actually occurred.

~~~

Cripes, I do declare I've just had an attack of clear thinking, albeit somewhat diluted by verbal dysentery. I've spent the day sprawled with my feet up - I think it's paying off.

Medical blahblahblah. )
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Being nice to the people you like is hardly worth applauding. It's being decent to the people you don't like that matters.

Discuss with reference to world politics, criminal justice or organisational theory.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Being nice to the people you like is hardly worth applauding. It's being decent to the people you don't like that matters.

Discuss with reference to world politics, criminal justice or organisational theory.

Mixed bag.

Jul. 3rd, 2007 07:31 pm
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
I seem to have had a crash of sorts. Definitely not bouncing along like I was, most of yesterday was spent in bed and I simply feel a whole bunch sicker again. Hoping it's just a blip but being careful and resisting the urge to angrily proclaim myself to be tough and in control of my destiny, because that trick always backfires.

I'm upset and pissed off. Will do a proper medical post soon, probably should document some of the weirdness.

Trying to be philosophical, trying to roll with the punches.

But if I'm too sick for Harry Potter next week all attempts at emotional aikido go out the freaking window.

~~~

But on a more cheery note, I've just been distracted from my woes by design issues and now my little head is buzzing.

We met an architect tonight and he showed us photos of his work. I hope he realised that I laugh when I'm excited, otherwise now he's probably feeling sad and wishing he'd become an accountant instead. And that would be bad because I really liked his stuff which is why I kept laughing, see above.

And funnily enough, a couple of the ideas he talked about with regard to his work are things I keep wondering about and discussing with 10B and thinking I should really write about here. I continually fail to do so because putting these thoughts down on cyber-paper is just a bit too challenging - I don't feel I really have the right language or preliminary knowledge, so the thoughts themselves are amorphous and things tend to get a bit circular.

Also, I suspect sometimes it's about trying to find order in situations that are ultimately pure chaos. Or at least far too complex for us to ever see the patterns and any pattern we superimpose is pragmatic.

But this might mean I'll actually try a bit harder to get some of this stuff pinned down.

Fun. Heh.

~~~

And on a third entirely unrelated note:

I am going through one of those phases in which I dither about how public I want my rantings to be. On Saturday I made everything 'friends only' to see what it felt like, on Sunday I decided it felt pointless and silly and as soon as I get my arse into gear I'll switch everything back (go mass selection tool! Go permanent account!).

I like meeting folk and that's a bit hard to do if you make yourself invisible.

~~~

Following on, but only sort of connected:


Question: So why so I call myself an introvert, exactly?

Answer: Head up bum, far enough to perform tonsilectomy with own teeth.


Glad that's sorted.



Or maybe in truth I'm an extrovert it's just that in real life I have social anxiety disorder which doesn't pop up so much in cyberspace because yooou caan't seeee meeeee(wwooooo) so I don't have to worry about spitting food when I eat. Therefore the barriers disappear.

Extrovert with social anxiety disorder = sheep who gets itchy from wearing wool next to the skin.

Silly idea, although it's an accurate metaphor for auto-immune disease.



Maybe it just doesn't matter.

Mixed bag.

Jul. 3rd, 2007 07:31 pm
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
I seem to have had a crash of sorts. Definitely not bouncing along like I was, most of yesterday was spent in bed and I simply feel a whole bunch sicker again. Hoping it's just a blip but being careful and resisting the urge to angrily proclaim myself to be tough and in control of my destiny, because that trick always backfires.

I'm upset and pissed off. Will do a proper medical post soon, probably should document some of the weirdness.

Trying to be philosophical, trying to roll with the punches.

But if I'm too sick for Harry Potter next week all attempts at emotional aikido go out the freaking window.

~~~

But on a more cheery note, I've just been distracted from my woes by design issues and now my little head is buzzing.

We met an architect tonight and he showed us photos of his work. I hope he realised that I laugh when I'm excited, otherwise now he's probably feeling sad and wishing he'd become an accountant instead. And that would be bad because I really liked his stuff which is why I kept laughing, see above.

And funnily enough, a couple of the ideas he talked about with regard to his work are things I keep wondering about and discussing with 10B and thinking I should really write about here. I continually fail to do so because putting these thoughts down on cyber-paper is just a bit too challenging - I don't feel I really have the right language or preliminary knowledge, so the thoughts themselves are amorphous and things tend to get a bit circular.

Also, I suspect sometimes it's about trying to find order in situations that are ultimately pure chaos. Or at least far too complex for us to ever see the patterns and any pattern we superimpose is pragmatic.

But this might mean I'll actually try a bit harder to get some of this stuff pinned down.

Fun. Heh.

~~~

And on a third entirely unrelated note:

I am going through one of those phases in which I dither about how public I want my rantings to be. On Saturday I made everything 'friends only' to see what it felt like, on Sunday I decided it felt pointless and silly and as soon as I get my arse into gear I'll switch everything back (go mass selection tool! Go permanent account!).

I like meeting folk and that's a bit hard to do if you make yourself invisible.

~~~

Following on, but only sort of connected:


Question: So why so I call myself an introvert, exactly?

Answer: Head up bum, far enough to perform tonsilectomy with own teeth.


Glad that's sorted.



Or maybe in truth I'm an extrovert it's just that in real life I have social anxiety disorder which doesn't pop up so much in cyberspace because yooou caan't seeee meeeee(wwooooo) so I don't have to worry about spitting food when I eat. Therefore the barriers disappear.

Extrovert with social anxiety disorder = sheep who gets itchy from wearing wool next to the skin.

Silly idea, although it's an accurate metaphor for auto-immune disease.



Maybe it just doesn't matter.

Profile

splodgenoodles: (Default)
splodgenoodles

June 2017

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11 121314151617
18192021222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 24th, 2017 06:38 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios