An arduous task

*Sigh* Why did I have to figure out a patch for a nasty plot hole that requires tons and tons of rewrites?

It’s hard to force myself to get to work on it. First I have to find the offending passages, then fix them … and right now it seems to require reading closely through every word following the initial mention of the mistake. Every. Single. Word. Not that I mind reading my own writing (if I didn’t like to read it, I shouldn’t be writing it), but I hadn’t planned for this much repair work.

Then I’m drawn back to real life, and I remember I have some studying to do for training at work. A new position that terrifies me, one that promises to be quite stressful. Will I be able to do it? Actually, it’s not the doing that concerns me; it’s the emotional aspect of the position. How does a technical position have an emotional risk, you might ask. Well, the surgeon is–how do I put it–“particular” about the way things are done. And he is not known for his patience with people who are learning. Oh, and it’s been two months since I last had a training session. Then there’s das boot. Will it get in the way? I don’t know, but it concerns me. I’m either going to be at risk for falling off the damn stool when I go to sit down or my clunky-ass boot’s going to be in the way, bumping into stuff because I can’t tell when I’m getting too close to things.

I keep trying to convince myself that I’m getting paranoid for nothing, that the surgeon has been more understanding lately than in previous years. I also try to tell myself that I can do this, that it’s a repetitive, OCD-esque job that fits well with my personality. I just have that tendency to get overly sensitive when faced with criticism.

We’ll see. I guess if I manage to make it through training it will help steel me for the inevitable rejections from agents and publishers once I finish the seemingly endless edits/rewrites and finally start submitting. (See how I tied that together? Thought I was just rambling didn’t you?)

*Sigh* Can I go back to being a peon that isn’t expected to be reliable and flexible to learning new things?

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Balancing act

Day job. Freelance job. Beta reading. Writing. Oh, and being sick af.

Yeah, day in the life and all that.

It’s hard to keep track of everything. The day job is pretty stressful and takes up the majority of my time. The freelance job…well, I fit it in where the day job allows, but I made a boo-boo last week and forgot a read/review assignment, so I’m backed up on that. Beta reading is backed up because of the back-up. Writing is…out the window until the beta read is done. Being sick? Yeah, apparently being sick doesn’t care how much time you have.

I try. I really do. I need an assistant or something. Wait. I am an assistant. I need…an assistant’s assistant. A sub-contractor. Someone to keep my head on straight when I forget I even have a head.

Of course, the Internet doesn’t help. I talk to friends online and tweet and all that fun happy stuff that has nothing to do with being productive. Buuuuut…it’s difficult to focus when you’ve got that good codeine-promethazine cough syrup in you. That doesn’t excuse me from before I got sick, but c’mon…it’s gotta count for something right now.

Oddly enough, I actually enjoy the non-day-job busy-ness. Again, focus is lacking right now, but…but…crap, there goes that thought.

Guess I should go do that read/review assignment, and the news posts I have to do. And then beta read some more. Before bed. Or in the morning, because I just saw what time it is. D’oh.

Out with the old, in with the new year

It’s hard to keep the new year’s resolution to take better care of myself when there’s Christmas candy around.

Guess I have to eat it all before the new year. 😉

I brought a bag of candy to work yesterday to try to get rid of some of it (and to be nice, because I tend to forget that my coworkers like chocolates too), but not too much got eaten. Maybe everyone else is trying to eat better, too.

I still want to lose weight. I want to get fit. I’m just terrible at getting motivated.

Soon I’ll start on the cosplay again. I didn’t get any done this morning because I was exhausted from being up so early yesterday, so I went back to sleep after I fed the cat instead. There’s no getting back to sleep before feeding the cat…believe me, I’ve tried.

Hard to believe 2016 is almost over. I’ve already had to write 2017 on several appointment cards at work, and it feels weird. Didn’t 2016 just start? Where did it go?

It went to cosplay–lots of “cosplay crunch,” lots of sewing and trying new things. It went to a cross-country trip with my husband to our first out-of-state convention. It went to writing (first draft of my second novel completed, plus began the first draft of my 3rd novel). It went to my first big commission art project (with royalties and everything). It went to working…I learned a lot at my job this year. It went to working at Talk Nerdy With Us (though I don’t do as much as I’d like due to the day job’s hours and responsibilities).

I don’t know what 2017 will bring. I’m sure it will bring more cosplay, more writing (possibly publishing my second novel?), more work for sure, and more talking nerdy.

Beyond that? We shall see….

Bring it on, 2017!

Survival

Well, I made it through my second day of training in the new position at work. It’s going to be stressful, but I think I’ll survive…

…as long as I don’t have more panic attacks.

Yeah, I freaked out for a few minutes in the O.R. at work. It was a “silent” panic attack, meaning I wasn’t, like, screaming or crying or anything, but inside I was in full-on flight-or-fight mode. I had to focus on my breathing and hold back the tears. Part of the anxiety was just that I felt my trainer was going just a touch too fast for my comfort. Not that I didn’t think I could do what she was asking, but it just felt like I was being rushed, and in an O.R. you don’t want to feel rushed!

I’m hoping that I get comfortable with the job–fast! It’s a position I’ve been avoiding for years because I was so anxious about doing it. Yay anxiety! Not.

My bosses have confidence that I can do it. My trainer and coworkers have confidence I can do it. Even the surgeon, who is usually stingy with compliments, told me I’d get it fine. So why am I so nervous?

Could be the bipolar disorder. I’m taking my meds, but sometimes you still get problems. I suppose if it gets too bad I can always call my psychiatrist and see about changing some stuff. I don’t necessarily want antianxiety meds for this; I mean, most of them make you drowsy and that’s another thing you don’t want in the O.R.

Another thing that concerns me is the damn arthritis. Just sitting there watching made my back scream with pain and joint pressure…something that may or may not get better once I’m actually doing the position and moving around as I sit. There will be a lot of rotating and I’ll have some small freedom of movement to where I can stretch my back slightly–while maintaining sterility, of course. Can’t go popping my back if the pressure gets too bad, but I can stretch, twist (slightly), rotate a little…it might be enough. If not, then it’s the rheumatologist I call for help.

I’ll likely be calling her soon anyway, because the pain has gotten worse since the weather has changed. Work seems to make it worse than anything, but doing a lot of “work” at home (cutting/pinning/sewing, for example) also seems to make it act up. That concerns me, because I was under control for so long that I don’t want to go back to being in pain all the time. I can tolerate it still, but I don’t want to have to tolerate it if there’s a tweak in meds that can help. I have an appointment next month, but I don’t know if I can handle another month of this kind of pain. I have a job to do. Can’t waste time being in pain. Gotta move. Go go go. Patients first and all that.

So yeah, I’m getting by. I’m keeping calm in the new position–mostly. I’m tolerating the pain. But I don’t want to just survive–I want to live.

New beginnings

Nope. Not another post about writing. Fooled ya!

This morning I’m writing about work. Weird, right?

I can’t talk about work much on social media. I work in a doctor’s office, so I have to watch what I say. Can’t be violating any privacy regulations or things like that. But also work is, like, work. It’s not that interesting … usually.

Today I start training in a new position. It’s a little nerve-wracking, because this position is super important to the surgery department. I even have study materials.

The study materials show me one very important thing: “You know nothing, Jon Snow.” Seriously. I’ve cleaned and sterilized all of the instruments used (while working in a different position), but making sense of which one’s called what and is used for this or that and in what order–sheesh! It’s a lot to remember.

If I successfully train for this position, though, and it works out, I’ll have learned nearly every position someone of my level can learn there. It’s pretty interesting. Despite my bitching over not understanding all the different instruments (yet), I enjoy learning. The procedure of surgery is fascinating, and I’m excited to learn–I’m just nervous about the application of said learning.

Eventually, I’ll have to work on my own in this position. All on my own. No help. Eek!

An hour before I leave for my training today, I’m starting to feel the reality of it. You know how these things go–you know it’s going to happen, but it’s not real until just before it happens. And I’m nervous as hell. Heart pounding, stomach in knots … the whole gig.

I know can do this. I just don’t know if I can. Y’know?

Well, off to some writing to calm myself down. Or I guess I could be studying. Like I’m supposed to.

Back in the swing of it

I worked in a different surgical position at work for the first time in months the other day, and my back rebelled against it with a vengeance. It did not like me standing and washing instruments all day.

I’m determined to make my back behave today. Gonna get some Tylenol on board when I get there and have my husband put some Blue Emu cream on my back before I leave for work. Get those prophylactics on board. I can’t let this arthritis keep me down.

My surgery boss suggested that this position may be too much for me and that she might not have me in this position any more after seeing how much pain I was in Tuesday. The thought of that is depressing, because until now the arthritis hasn’t kept me from doing my job. Sure, I’ve had days where I was in extreme pain, but never have I had to call out because of it. Maybe a couple of time went home a little early, but certainly never missed more than at most a couple of hours, if that. What will it mean for me if I’m limited to only certain positions due to the pain?

I can’t. I just can’t. I’m a grown woman. I can handle this. If I have pain today, I’ll just try to hide it. I mean, if I get sidelined from this one position that means I’m under less control. Which means calling the rheumatologist again. Which means likely another appointment. Which means more meds. Ugh.

Nope. Gonna stay in the nice little town of Nopesville, in the state of Denial.

I can beat this. I can make my body listen to me and force my immune system to quit this shit.

Frustrating days

I know it’s not my bosses’ faults. I know that we’re understaffed, overbooked, and generally in a constant state of chaos and flux. Things have been rough the past couple of months, with little to no end in sight.

Still, it doesn’t make things any easier knowing this.

It’s my own fault, I suppose. I’m always early. I do whatever I’m asked. I want to help, so when I’m pulled from training for one thing or kept late when I have to be there at nothing in the morning the next day, I don’t say much. Oh sure, I’ll grumble and fuss, but I mean I don’t really complain. I’m trying to be a good worker, a team player, all that jazz.

The most frustrating thing, I would have to say, is that I do it to myself. I don’t speak up for myself and I don’t stick up for myself. I just go with it…until I hit a breaking point.

That point slammed into me like a freight train last night. I was so frustrated and worn out and tired that almost as soon as I clocked out (did I remember to clock out?) and left the building I was in tears. I don’t just mean a couple tears here and there. I mean I was straight-up bawling all the way home and even after I got home. I was just done.

It hit me when I looked up at the clock and realized I had less than twelve and a half hours before I had to be back in the office. By the time I clocked out (seriously, did I even remember to clock out or was I so tired that I just booked it?) it was right at twelve hours. Half a day until I had to be back and working again. Barely enough time to scarf down my dinner and try to relax with some cosplay work before it was time to go to bed. I suppose shoving all those pins in the fabric may have been somewhat cathartic. Kinda.

Someday soon I’m going to have to have a talk with my boss(es) and try to convey my unhappiness. It’s not that I don’t want to work, it’s not that I want to find another job. I just don’t want to feel like one of the only ones who takes the job seriously. I know that’s not the case, but some days it feels like it.