Complicated feelings about health

This morning, a letter to me from NHS Blood & Transplant showed up on the metaphorical doormat. ( Read more... )

Also, got some brainwrong goin' on. Insomnia's pretty awful - I managed one sleep cycle last night before waking up and tossing & turning a bit, which I always feel worse about when I have bed-company, but eventually managed to get back to sleep. But it wasn't while I was in Portland. And I'm tolerably happy and really enjoying work and I am still absolutely stressed as fuck: incidence of intrusive thoughts is way up from baseline, jaw and shoulder muscles are a disaster, and I'm a twitchy mess. Dunno what to do about this. Reluctant to hit it with benzos but maybe I just should. Nothing obviously wrong; I mean, some financial stress (not helped by the DWP, who are currently being Charming In Particular, but equally! not anywhere near as bad as I expected it to be, it being rent day and my having cocked up last week! that is helpful) and residual workstress and a small interpersonal sad (but that one is, I think, genuinely small), so... who knows. Let's see if I sleep easier for having spammed you with yet more stuff though, wow, apologies all etc etc etc. (And then think seriously about how to be less stressed about work, sigh, but that's for the counselling session.)

EVERY DAY IS BEING PISSY ABOUT ACCESS DAY :D

I have been out of the house barely an hour. In that time:

1. I have been reminded that the type of bus that serves the route I generally use to get into work is REALLY badly set up in terms of wheelchair access - if there are people in the seats opposite the wheelchair bay, the only way to get in (and I have a light, readily manoueverable chair!) is to reverse extremely cautiously round the awkward grab rail while they tuck their feet right in.
   
   
2. Fucking smokers at the top of the ramp that is my one sensible entrance into my building by the fucking doors with the fucking no smoking sign in addition to the fact that it's simply fucking outright illegal to smoke there. Normally I cope better; as it is I've already had one exposure this week (That One Gent seriously needs to either do the thing he keeps saying he will and quit OR at minimum sodding tell me if he has smoked in the 24 hours prior to seeing me so I don't have to find out by developing uncontrollable coughing fits + sensitisation lasting days) and as such I was kind of rude, to the tune of "I have a significant cigarette smoke allergy and this is my one sensible route into the building; it would be great if you would comply with the law and not smoke near doors." ("Sorry," he said, "but there's all these schoolchildren," gesturing to the side of the steps where people usually congregate to smoke illegally. "AND AN ENTIRE REST OF THE ROAD," I said, with sweeping gesture behind me.)
   
   
3. The fucking lift into my fucking building is fucking broken afuckinggain and nobody bothered to fucking e-mail me about it. I would care less apart from the fact that my alternate route involves retracing steps past at least one awkward sodding door, followed by a bunch of doors that you have to PULL UPHILL to open having RELEASED THE CATCH WITH YOUR CARD.
   
   
4. AND. THE SMOKERS ON THE FRONT STEPS AT THE FRONT OF MY ACTUAL BUILDING. THE ENTRANCE I CAN'T USE, BECAUSE STEPS. WERE BEING SO UNUTTERABLY VILE THAT THE CENTRAL STAIRWELL ON THE SECOND FLOOR IS NOT CURRENTLY SAFE FOR ME TO USE, DESPITE BEING THE ONLY ROUTE BY WHICH I CAN ACCESS MY WORKSPACE.

In conclusion: set everything on fire, ESPECIALLY SMOKERS. Yes, it will lead to a brief increase in the problem, but it will also be a temporary increase. When I rule the world, the penalty for smoking in public space will in fact be instant immolation. </astonishingly grouchy>

KORRAFEELS (liveblogged etc)

Verdict: crap, for all season 2 was clearly bad fanfiction this show still appears to be able to regularly reduce me to tears. Many feels.

( S03E01-E03. )