Well, it was just moving the desk from the spare bedroom / catch-all / place where we stuff the things when we have guests bonus room to the library nook. Also gave the boys a place to crash other than the living room. This will go a long way to helping me feel less anxious in the mornings.
The desktop is installed on the desk now as well. I have a place to write where it feels like writing again. maybe it is my age showing but writing on a mobile doesn't feel like writing; length is unnatural and thought seems like an impediment. Impulsive thumb twitches and pretty pictures are best served by our flask-sized computers. I feel like that is not enough anymore. I miss the words that used to flow with ease. I miss the man of words I used to be.
A final thought. I am calling mental health professionals tomorrow regarding the most recent bout of depression. This is familiar territory but at the same time terrifying. Last time I went my life changed like crazy. For then better but still, CHANGE. Wish me luck.
After insulting some of Cate's more distant relatives last weekend I decided to take some time away from the Book of Faces.
At first it was an itchy nagging in my brain, a call begging for a response. I wanted to give in, but fortunately work is a madhouse and I was distracted for a while.
After nearly a week there is some craving, a tingle of FOMO that calls out but I have gone cold turkey. I have read more books, talked more, grilled more, smiled more without the addiction that is Facebook.
I haven't decided if I will extend this experiment to the ultimate end, deleting my account, but I do know life is finite and a lot more fun when I'm not staring into my mobile.
Had my first appointment last Monday and finished out the week with an ultrasound on both my legs. This week brings blood draws and a call to the cardiologist.
I have high blood pressure and the valves in the small veins of my legs aren't working well. (I have valves in my legs, who knew?) So far I have prescriptions for two meds. Who knows how many I will have by christmas.
I went to the doctor because I haven't been feeling at all well. About three-ish years ago during a bout of depression I kinda gave up on my health care, stopped getting heart check ups, stopped the weight watchers, and once stopped it was pretty damn hard to get started again. Over the past year I started notice get an increase in angina, to the point where some weeks it was a daily occurrence. I began to feel worn out halfway through the walk to work, my weight is pretty much where it was five years ago, pre heart attack.
About the time I started to have little freak outs at bed time, my mind worrying that should I close my eyes, I might not awake come morning, I decided to make the call.
That has made a huge difference in my day. Even though I don't know where I stand as far as my ultimate diagnosis and resulting treatment goes, just taking the steps to improve my health has been a boost to my outlook.
There are changes at work that contribute to my improved morale but that's a different post.
With every post, every comment, every interaction I feel that much dirtier. I see the unfiltered resentment and rage lurking behind the cold dead eyes in a hundred profile pictures and I have to stop. Stop reading it. Stop feeding on it. Stop letting it feed on me...
I wish there was more beach in this post but sadly it is the softening blacktop and the reflective metal of the car lot I now call the workplace.
There is one heck of a farmer's tan I got going on. No tank tops or sandals in the workplace so no, "tiger feet" this year, either. I try to take my lunch break at the nearby creek, but some days, even a legally mandated rest period seems impossible.
I had an eye exam the weekend before last, a bright, shiny Saturday and I found out I have dry eyes.I have to up my intake of Omega-3*, drink more water, and use artificial tears to help with the irritation. I know it is good to be preventative, but geez, for some reason all this shit makes me feel old.
Most days I arrive at work mid-morning and even with SPF 30 I can feel the creeping heat burn a spot on my neck just above the collar of my t-shirt. That is a summer sensation I could do without.
*I'm already taking fish oil for the heart stuff. I should be downright glossy in a few weeks
I wore my snow boots into work as they are the most waterproof footwear I own. My feet aren't soaked but are partially immobilized and heavy. My rain pants are starting to reflect my own personal humidity and that's a little uncomfortable.
At five thirty it is very dark so the wash bay I jokingly refer to as mine is useless. The only light in the space is mounted high in a corner and partially blocked by a large wedge used this summer during the Dog Days event and stuffed up there afterwards. The next two and a half hours are going to be spent loitering andr looking busy on the off chance somebody actually walks all the way back here. I will be outdoors or in my unheated tin wash tunnel during this time.
The water on the cars has officially frozen now. I do not want to be out in this weather. I should not be out in this weather, I am older and I did have a heart attack not all that long ago.