![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
6 months and other random thoughts on a Friday....
Yessir, it's been 6 months since I decided to take a header off of a veranda. Another 10 days, and it will have been 6 months since my surgery to correct the damage caused by said header. 2 titanium plates, countless Percosets, and half a year later, I am here. Now I get to go to the doc and find out if any nasssssty bloodborne illnesses found their way in during all of that excitement in various hospitals. If the answer is negative, I get to get another tattoo. Yay!
My bodily recovery has been nothing short of amazing. None of my dentists nor the CT scan tech could tell that there had been any damage to my right cheekbone (until they started working on the affected area, of course). I wonder if it's too late to send a thank you to the ENT specialist who restored my face?
The mental recovery - we know how that's going. Slowly, slowly....
I have to move cubes today. Not only that, but I'm also the one in charge of moving all of the mail station crap. Not that that's ever been expressly pointed out to me, but I know it just the same, because I am the maid of the floor. I'm sure I'll do it wrong, just like I set up the copy room wrong (oh horrors, I set it up how it would be best and easiest for me to use it, because I'm the one who basically lives in there).
Uber-competitive people and perfectionist bosses annoy the everliving fuck out of me. "I *must* win! Ha ha, I won and you didn't! Nyah ne-nyah nyah nyah nyah!" "This isn't the way I want it, and it's your fault. Don't take any initiative, because you won't do it the way I want you to." A hearty fuck you to both classes of people. I wish I could actually say it to faces, but Miss Manners and our bank account forbid such dangerous living.
I ran 9 miles on Wednesday. I meant it to be 10, but I accidentally knocked the Emergency Stop button out at 9 miles and figured it was a Sign. Yesterday, I slept from 6 until 10 and from midnight until 7 this morning. Hmmm. Perhaps one should not run 9 miles and then go out drinking until 1:30 a.m. unless one can sleep in the next day? It's a thought. Since my general health and well-being improves dramatically when I have a 9+ mile run every 10 days (at the very least), I'll have to remember that little fact.
Not much going on this weekend. Take Me Out closes. We have Streetcar rehearsal on Saturday. We found a stage manager for Streetcar! Yay! I'l probably still have to house manage most nights, but that's a better deal. I won't have to watch the show every night - I'll be able to hang out in the lobby and read books. I like that kind of gig.
It's frickin' rainy and cold. Dammit. It's May! I should have packed my winter sweaters a long time ago!
I'd best go pack up my cube. Whee.
What are you planning for this weekend?
My bodily recovery has been nothing short of amazing. None of my dentists nor the CT scan tech could tell that there had been any damage to my right cheekbone (until they started working on the affected area, of course). I wonder if it's too late to send a thank you to the ENT specialist who restored my face?
The mental recovery - we know how that's going. Slowly, slowly....
I have to move cubes today. Not only that, but I'm also the one in charge of moving all of the mail station crap. Not that that's ever been expressly pointed out to me, but I know it just the same, because I am the maid of the floor. I'm sure I'll do it wrong, just like I set up the copy room wrong (oh horrors, I set it up how it would be best and easiest for me to use it, because I'm the one who basically lives in there).
Uber-competitive people and perfectionist bosses annoy the everliving fuck out of me. "I *must* win! Ha ha, I won and you didn't! Nyah ne-nyah nyah nyah nyah!" "This isn't the way I want it, and it's your fault. Don't take any initiative, because you won't do it the way I want you to." A hearty fuck you to both classes of people. I wish I could actually say it to faces, but Miss Manners and our bank account forbid such dangerous living.
I ran 9 miles on Wednesday. I meant it to be 10, but I accidentally knocked the Emergency Stop button out at 9 miles and figured it was a Sign. Yesterday, I slept from 6 until 10 and from midnight until 7 this morning. Hmmm. Perhaps one should not run 9 miles and then go out drinking until 1:30 a.m. unless one can sleep in the next day? It's a thought. Since my general health and well-being improves dramatically when I have a 9+ mile run every 10 days (at the very least), I'll have to remember that little fact.
Not much going on this weekend. Take Me Out closes. We have Streetcar rehearsal on Saturday. We found a stage manager for Streetcar! Yay! I'l probably still have to house manage most nights, but that's a better deal. I won't have to watch the show every night - I'll be able to hang out in the lobby and read books. I like that kind of gig.
It's frickin' rainy and cold. Dammit. It's May! I should have packed my winter sweaters a long time ago!
I'd best go pack up my cube. Whee.
What are you planning for this weekend?
no subject
no subject
I hope your rehearsal goes well!
no subject
no subject
My life. Just a social whirl.
no subject
Me, weekend? Painting kitchen baseboards. Editing my first pass proofs of "Matty Groves". Fleeing for my sanity on Sunday, because it's Bay to Breakers.
Weekend?
(Anonymous) 2005-05-13 06:33 pm (UTC)(link)Seeing the Geef's show
Tomorrow-
Slugging it out with more prom kids, possibly seeing a really, truly terrible show at the CfIA.
Sunday-
Housework w/the fiancee', and then manual labor for my dad (who's been illin' as of late.)
Sandwiched in between all that will be working out, karate-ing, and drinking. I live a charmed life.
Re: Weekend?
I'll tell you what happens in Arms later.
:)
XOXO
no subject
What is this tattoo going to be?
no subject
no subject
no subject