A few ridiculously slapstick things that have happened recently:
- I was in the entrance area by our front door, cleaning. I turned around, and saw Jodi through the glass. I screamed in surprise. While screaming, my jeans fell down around my ankles. (I have since bought a belt.)
- While trying to operate the door to the WC, I managed to hit myself in the arm with it, in the exact, very sore spot where I just had my flu jab. [Please get your flu jab, guys.]
- Multiple instances of managing to whack my finger right where my injury is and give myself the horrible burning sensation.
- Somehow throwing things I’m holding, esp. pens.
- Knocking drink markers into my drink more than once.
- Slipping in the shower.
- Setting off my own panic alarm 3 times in the same damn day.
- Squeezing my Coke Zero too hard at the cinema and getting it down myself.
- Cutting my left thumbnail, because I thought it was a brilliant idea to hold a knife in my right hand as I was trying to put on my chainmail glove.
- Several almost-accidents with the kitchen knife on different fingertips, prevented by the glove I bought after my accident.
- And, perhaps more verbal than physical, my ridiculous inability to keep feelings about people to myself. I embarrass myself literally non-stop! I’m even doing it again by typing this!
I had a nurse appointment the other day. It was the same nurse who took out my stitches, so she looked at my finger after the main appointment was done. I think it’s closed up quite nicely, with a bit of a dent, but apparently it really shouldn’t have so much fluid around it. She had a doctor come and take a look; they don’t think the wound is infected because it’s not warmer than the rest of the finger, but because of how swollen it is, they think there might be an infection in the bone where the knife hit it. So I have to go for an x-ray and everything.
I’ve been given Doxycycline in the meantime. It sucks.
I am at peak stress right now, and this time it has resulted in: Disordered eating! Today I ate 2 mug soups, totalling 180 calories. I’ve decided to become mathy about it this time. It’s not exact how many calories will add or remove a pound from your weight, but I’m trying to figure it out anyway, work from roughly how many calories it will take for me to lose another 99 or so pounds, and subtract my daily deficit from that total until I’m down to 0.
The trouble is that me and maths don’t mix. It’s fucked me over a lot. It’s why coding knowledge doesn’t stay in my head. It’s why I couldn’t do electrical engineering or robotics at college, because my maths GCSE was nowhere near good enough.
It’s called Dyscalculia and it sucks balls, and makes me feel like a complete dipshit all the time. It sucks knowing that I’m not a smart person and there’s nothing I can do to make myself smart because I’m just not wired that way. So, to summarise, I am almost definitely getting the calorie thing wrong in some way.
That was actually a massive tangent. What I wanted to ramble about, was, how disordered eating and Doxycyline do not mix. You’re meant to have a full meal with Doxycycline because it makes you want to barf if you don’t. For some reason I thought 180 calories of soup would be fine. I was very wrong.
I’m so stressed and I’m trying not to let it make me intolerable but it’s really hard when I just want to yell at everything.
Planning a wedding is so frustrating and I honestly hate it. The reception venue finally took payment from us, but I don’t know why it took so long. Some people still haven’t RSVP’d but we went to the venue to arrange our tables recently, so, some people just might not have seats, and other people will have seats that might not be sat in. I guess I can expect this from younger friends who have no idea what we are juggling because they’ve never planned a wedding. But the older people, who are married, and know exactly what it involves? I have no idea why they’ve done this to us.
Perhaps the thing that wipes me out the most is that, Will is not the only important person in my life. We’re getting married because he’s my soulmate, the only person I can tolerate in my space and my bed every day. I need alone time, but I don’t need so much of it from Will. It feels right to be around him. We’ve been virtually inseparable for 8 years, but it feels like much longer.
Will is my primary partner (in the Descriptive sense, but it’s also unavoidably a bit Prescriptive). We are domestically-monogamous (I wouldn’t say no to living in a large house with other partners, but they’d probably have their own bedrooms, and our kids wouldn’t know the true details of our relationships). We always come home to each other, and that’s the bottom line.
I’m so consciously anxious that I’m alienating the other important people in our lives. I try not to drone on about the wedding but it’s weird, to love multiple people so sincerely and then to only marry one of them, and all the others have to just live with it. They have to accept that, no matter how much closer they may get to both or either of us, they will never get to be a spouse on paper.
I wonder if monogamy only caught on so much because it’s convenient, the idea that everyone in the world will be neatly paired off. What if it doesn’t work like that. What if your soulmate has 3 soulmates, and you’re only one of them. What if your soulmate marries their primary, and because you feel you only have the one soulmate, you remain unmarried forever and have no explanation for it for your family?
I’m lucky that I get to be one of a married pair, with the person I’ve barely been apart from for almost a decade. But I worry it will upset other people who are important to us. I hope it doesn’t.
Sorry for my early-hours brain dump.
Here are some pictures of Joop.