No rest for the weary

I swear I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind…

After a night with only two hours of sleep, I was going to type up a post that was 95% bitching about the insomnia. I actually did type it up, but I deleted it all. Because fuck the insomnia. I’m not going to let it win. I’m going to drink my coffee, take my shower, and get ready for the busy work day ahead. I’m going to do my job until it’s time for me to go home and then work out, eat dinner, and hopefully crash into a peaceful night’s sleep.

And if I don’t? Well then, it’s just going to be another long night.


I’ve gotten to that bend in the roller coaster again. I’d been fairly flat and level lately, but I suspect that the tracks are on a downslope as I get more and more sensitive to little things that shouldn’t bug me.

My biggest frustration stems from new knowledge that’s coming in that is slowing me down when it comes to utilization of said knowledge. I know, in theory, how to do these new things, but in practice I’m failing–big time. My mind is trying to apply the things I’ve learned and in the process I’m tripping all over myself…sometimes literally. I know that it’s a learning curve and I just have to be patient and keep practicing, but try telling that to me. I’m sure as hell not listening to it.

I’m also getting more sensitive, or maybe more paranoid, about what people think of me. Every time I hear derisive laughter and I don’t know what the people are talking about, I assume it must be about me. They’re making fun of someone and I’m weird, so they must be making fun of me. It’s not anything or anyone specific and it’s not logical in any way, but the thoughts come just the same.

These insecurities are really hitting me harder than they should, so I know it’s just my mind getting out of control again. Knowing that and pushing the insecurities aside are two different animals though; I can tell myself all day long that I’m worrying over nothing–it won’t make a difference. I’ll still find myself on the verge of tears for no good reason.

It’ll pass eventually–it always does–but it’s frustrating as hell when this part of my brain cycle hits.

Seriously? Less than two weeks before con?

I hate acne.

Thirty-seven years old and I still get it. It’s not as frequent or constant like when I was a kid, but it’s prevalent nonetheless. And it decided to pop up right before Phoenix Comicon. FML.

I’m hoping it clears up in the next two weeks. I don’t have any kind of cover-up makeup, and even if I did I’ve never known how to apply concealer and foundation and all that jazz. I mean, I can put the stuff on, but matching my skin tone and blending the edges around the jawline? Nope. Can’t do it. And there’s no way I’m buying new makeup just for con. I bought the eye makeup specifically for Comicon, for cosplay and maybe the rare occasion where I want to feel pretty. For me, that’s enough. All that contouring crap that’s in fashion these days just makes people look like they’ve got pancake batter caked on their faces. Eww.

If it doesn’t clear up, I suppose I can be grateful that at least one of my cosplays will have a mask over my chin and nose, where the current outbreak is located.

I’m not sure what evolutionary path led to stress-related acne. What’s that all about? How is that an appropriate reaction to stressors? “Hey, this thing is getting us anxious/upset/stressed out. Let’s grow giant boils on our face and stuff. That’ll take care of whatever imminent threat is lording over us.” I suppose I could Google it, but whatever. Knowing the theoretical evolutionary reason for acne won’t do me any good unless there’s a cure, and if there was a true cure it would be on the market already.

Dermatologists have prescribed creams for me in the past, but the problem with that is that the first few weeks of treatment leave my face red and raw and peeling before my skin gets accustomed to the new medicine. No thanks. As gross as breakouts are, I don’t know if I want to have to go through that again–not to mention that it’ll make me even more susceptible to sunburn, and with how often I’m out in the sun lately that would be a “no.”

I need to try to relax. I need to be confident that I will finish my husband’s cosplay clothing in time. I need to chill the fuck out.

Or maybe it’s just hormones, in which case this rant is pointless.

Ironing out the details

Once again, I must get cracking on my husband’s cosplay coat. There’s just one little thing that’s halting my progress the past couple of days:


It’s not that I don’t know how to iron; it’s just that my most productive time of day is first thing in the morning, and sometimes I’m too tired to be productive then. Like, so tired I should not be operating an iron. Burns = bad.

Once I get the interfacing all ironed on the pieces it goes on, though, it’s gonna be crank-out time. Sewing away in the mornings and on the weekends, busting butt to get it done.

My husband is working on a leather bracer, a sort of “flamethrower” for my costume (since Dark Phoenix is all about the telekinetic flames). It’s great that we have some friends who are willing to help us out with our cosplays, because without them we’d have been lost on the leatherworking with these latest costumes. Our skills have increased since we began this project, though, which has me feeling pretty good about things.

Having a circle of friends again (after having gone so long with no one really to hang out with) is weird. Like, all of a sudden we have a social life. Plans. We’re going out and doing things. With other people. Who like spending time with us. Weird.

I gotta admit, it’s a little exhausting, especially with all the cosplay work (and the day job) on top of the new social activities. Suddenly we’re doing something on almost every day off–and even some workday afternoons–and it’s a little overwhelming. Not that it’s not fun; I have a blast hanging with our friends. It’s just, like…surreal.

The funny thing is, the most fun I have is when we’re doing rapier practice. Yeah, I get bruises out the wazoo, but it’s exercise that I actually enjoy. And it’s a blast. Fucking swordfighting in the 21st century. Wicked. I wish I’d known about this when I was younger, before age caught up to me and my metabolism ground to a halt. Maybe, if I’d been fighting with rapiers earlier, I wouldn’t be the fatty that I am now. Yeah, yeah, big is beautiful too, but I want to be comfortable with my weight. Which I’m not at the moment.

And I just realized something that has my cosplay panic revved up to a new level of panic: We’re going to have house guests (apartment guests?) after Comicon for a couple of days. I have to clean up the craft room as soon as I’m done with hubby’s coat.


Tackled by the Curse of the Ides

I should’ve listened to Shakespeare.

Yesterday was supposed to be a relatively easy day for me at work. Half a day, with only about a dozen patients in the morning, then the whole afternoon off to chill.


Someone called out. Someone else went home sick. Someone else went home because of a sick babysitter. Life said “No, no, you’re going to work a full day today. End of story.”

It wasn’t too bad of a day, so I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. Still, when you plan on a half day it’s disappointing to wind up working the full day. Granted it’s more money, but there’s also the potential for more stress and you lose the time to do other things that you could have been doing. Like, I couldn’t sew yesterday afternoon because the boot’s still on (hopefully off this afternoon!), but I could have been editing, doing rewrites, writing, critiquing, napping, etc. Plenty to do, but I lost that time.

Now, I’m not using the Ides of March as a way of saying that the sick coworkers (and babysitter) stabbed me in the back; it’s not their fault. If you’re sick you’re sick, and there’s really nothing for it. However, I am going to blame superstition here and say that the Ides fucked me over. Seriously, Ides? What’s up with that?

Well, today my half day is guaranteed. I have my follow up appointment for the broken foot, where it will be determined if the boot comes off or if there’s six more weeks of boot.

Here’s hoping the X-ray doesn’t see any shadows.


Learning can be a real pain–and a frustrating challenge.

I’ve been training in this new position at work long enough that I’m improving in one area but still stalled in another.

The prep work is killing me, time-wise. I’m so s-l-o-w that I know I’m driving my trainer crazy. I’m baffled as to why I’m not getting any faster, because I was doing this part of the position before I actually started on the “real” work of it. It’s bugging me and it makes me feel bad. Like I’m failing at simple set-up.

I know, I know, everyone learns at a different pace, but this part of the job is pretty much rote. Lather, rinse, repeat. Or something along those lines.

Another problem is my RA. The spine is not happy with the new movements and such that I’m doing. I’m hoping it’s just because I’m not acclimated to the new position and that, like the other positions I do at work, my back will adjust with time.

It’s not the pain that’s slowing my prep time down, though, not really. It’s preventing me from doing a full day of this job, which will pose a serious problem if the RA doesn’t settle the fuck down. I can’t only do half days of this. I need to be able to cover a whole day if necessary.

Beyond frustrated at this point. Now that I’ve finally worked up the nerve to do this type of work, my back is telling me I can’t do it. I’ll be really disappointed if my spine doesn’t adjust–and so will my coworkers. 😦

Someday this pain will be useful to me…but when?

“Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.” According to the Interwebs, this quote is from Ovid, a Roman poet. I don’t know how true that is, but ever since I first saw it, it resonated deeply with me. I guess it’s because of the RA. Maybe also because my mom has fibromyalgia. Regardless of why, it meant enough to me to get part of the quote tattooed on the side of my forearm, in plain sight. Yeah, I get asked about it a lot, but it’s got deep meaning for me. Someday I’ll find out the reason–in the grand, universal scheme of things–why I have the pain I have and for what purpose it was given to me.

I’d kind of like to know when though. It’s getting a little annoying waiting.

I’m lying in bed right now at 0100, woken half an hour ago in pain from my foot and back. The back pain started yesterday when I was in the OR. Between the nerves and anxiety and just standing there in general, my back rebelled. With a vengeance. Muscles and joints seized up on me, and I tried not to cry. I ended up needing a ride home at lunch time because the pain was unbearable.

Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t be able to do the job in the OR that I’m training for. Just like with the first few days in pre/post and as instrument tech, my body has to adjust to the new physical demands on it. It’s something I just have to deal with, and I wasn’t mentally (or, apparently, physically) prepared for the demands on my back yesterday. Even now, twelve hours after I left work, I’m gritting my teeth.

So when–and how–will this all have a purpose? When will this pain be useful to me? I hope the universe shows me soon. It would be nice to know why the Gods have decided to make me suffer for a while.

Thinking back on the two weeks I walked on a broken foot, maybe that had something to do with it. I mean, how would I have been able to do that if I didn’t have the pain tolerance that I do?

Guess I’ll find out eventually. Right now? Tylenol and quite possibly a heating pad.

Gotta get back to work come morning.