Truths on a Sunday, with links
March 2, 2014
It’s been over a year since I last had to work from bed. Had to meaning, it was too fatiguing and painful to sit up, forget getting up and dressed to sit up at a desk and take meetings or make decisions. Which is great, as far as milestones go!
But I broke the record, alas, this past week. It turns out that working from 10 am to 2 am every day for weeks is not something I can do without penalty anymore. In fact, there was a significant penalty: 5 days bedridden, unable to cook, clean or fend for myself or the dog; 2 more days slowly improving.
Work chaos dictated it, which is a bit ironic on the heels of my vacation post I’ll admit, but there IS an end in sight at least. Unlike previous jobs where the end of any chaos just bled into the next one, this is something that, with a lot of long hours and troubleshooting, will end.
These episodes are always a bit hard on PiC who has to pick up my slack. (And do absolutely nothing good for my guilt complex about being useless or becoming useless with the progression of this … lifestyle or whatever you want to call it.)
To compensate for the inevitable brain death and aggravation that comes with the pain and fatigue, I’ve been taking really short breaks to do silly things. Handmake postcards to send to people who are feeling as bad as I am. Cutting up old towels to hem into little hand and dishtowels. Making address labels. Finding recipes for rich foods that I want to make “when I get better”. Screwing around with the blog. Ahem. New theme. Again.
On a given day, the saddest moments are in the few hours after energy reserves dissipate and I’m sitting in front of the computer again, working because I can’t physically do anything else, because the memory of Being Able is so fresh.
So after a long layabout? You have no idea how much excitement spikes whenever recovery starts and I can, say, sit up in bed without waves of dizziness, or walk out of the bedroom without severe nausea from pain. Naturally, the first morning that I feel actual energy, I run to do laundry. Laundry is how I celebrate recovery.
Money is also how I celebrate recovery: I’ve been thinking a lot on investing and making ways to make our money work for us. There’s nothing like semi-temporary physical deficiencies to remind me of being mortal and all that other stuff. My company doesn’t offer short term or long term disability, which is, of course, a concern for me on these really tough days so I have to figure out how to make our own!
For the record, I’m not a cheerful spoonie. I hate life when my body is full of exposed nerves, heavy with the weight of all that I can’t do, and every decision, to sit or lay down, to eat or rest, is a bad one with worse outcomes. I hate life. But it passes. And I have to be grateful for that much even if I don’t have it in me to be gracious when I’m struggling through the shambles. Also, internet distractions are wonderful.
PiC always insists that Costco is the best deal for everything, just to get my price-comparing goat, but here’s a quick guide to what Costco’s pricing indicates. It’ll help you get a sense of what it means for your deal right there in store, though not necessarily how the price stacks up against other stores.
Tungsten Hippo on reading and discussing race.
I loved this NYTimes interview with Sheila Talton, on Helping Employees Up the Ladder. Being held back by someone who doesn’t have my best career trajectory/growth at heart burns me up, no one is indispensable and that’s a crap reason to hold on to your star performers if you’re really just holding them back. Sheila’s reason for promoting her stars out of her group is so sensible & definitely in line with my philosophy:
Well, eventually you’re going to lose them anyway. You may as well be proactive, because people don’t forget that. Then, if you need anything in that part of the organization where they’re now working, they will help you.
Hattip to save.spend.splurge for sharing this: Babies in Finland come home with a Baby Box and sleep in them too. I love this. Our Swede friends have their new baby in a bassinet by their bed, no crib or fancy baby room, and I think it’s awesome. Pretty sure Doggle would accidentally step on any kid sleeping by our bedside because he wanders at night and my side of the bed is his favorite nesting spot, after his crate (you know, with an actual bed).
Bottle-feeding a kitten
hattip: Carnival of the Random