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Have made myself a Central Perk-sized bucket of coffee, stolen a functional laptop from the living room (so cannot afford a new laptop right now. Am really freaking out that my baby has started bluescreening every ten minutes, no matter what weird fixes I try. Would just wipe her and start again, but I don't have a copy of windows xp. Hence, omgpanic), and gone back to bed.
Today = start of six days off work, after working eight days in a row. Which, yes, is illegal (the latter, not the former) in this country, but idiot that I am, I agreed to it, and now I feel like... to be honest, I don't feel as bad as I was expecting, but I will be spending most of today in bed and on the sofa, unable to do anything useful at all. Not only am I in pain that is epic like epic cat (have given up trying to find appropriate metaphors for the level of joint pain I sustain on a regular basis and instead have invented a new measurement scheme: 'timid cat' (level 1 pain) all the way through 'epic cat' (about level 7-8, so I'm not actually in tears) and frankly, if I am able to type, I haven't got to level 9-10, so I don't see myself ever needing a relevant moniker for that sort of incredible awfulness, other than offline mumbling while I'm curled up in the foetal position waiting for painkillers to work) but I'm also brainfogged, which makes anything more complicated than opening an update window pretty difficult. Writing is okay today, though; I'm not sitting around for half an hour trying to figure out how to formulate a sentence like 'I made a cup of coffee', which is good.
Uh, yeah. Was planning on doing Important Things today, but, well, no. Having panic attacks at doctors and bank-shaped people will have to wait until.. I'm going to say next Monday, because that will give me enough time to stop feeling like a ball of anxiety about doing Important Things, and also give me enough time to have recovered from work enough to, you know, be able to walk down a flight of stairs without wanting to immediately sit down (or stab myself in the face, whichever = NO MORE PAIN sooner).
Today = start of six days off work, after working eight days in a row. Which, yes, is illegal (the latter, not the former) in this country, but idiot that I am, I agreed to it, and now I feel like... to be honest, I don't feel as bad as I was expecting, but I will be spending most of today in bed and on the sofa, unable to do anything useful at all. Not only am I in pain that is epic like epic cat (have given up trying to find appropriate metaphors for the level of joint pain I sustain on a regular basis and instead have invented a new measurement scheme: 'timid cat' (level 1 pain) all the way through 'epic cat' (about level 7-8, so I'm not actually in tears) and frankly, if I am able to type, I haven't got to level 9-10, so I don't see myself ever needing a relevant moniker for that sort of incredible awfulness, other than offline mumbling while I'm curled up in the foetal position waiting for painkillers to work) but I'm also brainfogged, which makes anything more complicated than opening an update window pretty difficult. Writing is okay today, though; I'm not sitting around for half an hour trying to figure out how to formulate a sentence like 'I made a cup of coffee', which is good.
Uh, yeah. Was planning on doing Important Things today, but, well, no. Having panic attacks at doctors and bank-shaped people will have to wait until.. I'm going to say next Monday, because that will give me enough time to stop feeling like a ball of anxiety about doing Important Things, and also give me enough time to have recovered from work enough to, you know, be able to walk down a flight of stairs without wanting to immediately sit down (or stab myself in the face, whichever = NO MORE PAIN sooner).