Getting back to reality was very strange yesterday.
Obviously, I had work to do–I’d been out of the office for over a week and yes, my data entry and uploading and everything was way behind; but fortunately it was also Carnival time so we weren’t all that busy in the clinic during my absence. But it felt very strange being in the office again, like I hadn’t been there in years, which is of course patently absurd on its face. It only seems that way, and let’s face it, I’ve not been good with days and dates for quite some time now, if we’re going to be completely honest, which is something I am trying much harder at these days. Although honesty isn’t always the best policy (“oh what an adorable baby!” is always better than recoiling and saying “yikes!”, even if the second option is probably the most correct one), the truth is so much easier to keep track of–but then again, do you remember the truth? Our memories are colored by our perceptions and biases, and we often rewrite our memories to make ourselves look better than maybe we actually were at the time. I don’t quite trust my memories as absolute truths anymore.
I came home and did a few things, finished reading Abby Collette’s charming Body and Soul Food (more on that later), and then I basically sat in my chair thinking for the rest of the evening, until Paul took a break and we watched the final episode of the first season of Class. It’s so interesting, as the story-lines and characters are essentially the same as season one of Elité, but with enough tweaks and changes, some of them cultural, to make it very interesting. I also wound up going to bed early, which was kind of nice. I didn’t sleep great last night–I kept waking up, and often had trouble falling back asleep–and I know we’re going to be busy in the clinic today, too, which is going to be a challenge–so we’ll see how it goes. My fuse for the dryer is supposed to arrive today as well, so if it does and I am not too tired when I get home from the office, I may go ahead and attempt to see if I can get the dryer to work again. If it doesn’t, well, we’re going to have go get a new dryer to go along with the new refrigerator we’ll be getting once the festivals are over.
I just plan on trying to make it through today, really. Paul probably won’t be home until very late again tonight, and so I will inevitably end up in my chair to make a bed for Scooter, so I can use my cat-bed time to read and ice my toe and keep it elevated. It’s not nearly as swollen or painful as it was, and I did leave a message for my doctor yesterday to see if I should get it checked out; I thought about making an appointment but then decided to opt for the message route–mainly because the appointment times were really inconvenient, not soon, and so I figured meh, send a message through the app and see what happens. I hate being so indecisive, but what’s the point of seeing the doctor if I can’t get in to see him until next week? Worst case scenario is I haven’t heard back from him by tomorrow, at which point I’ll go ahead and take one of those appointments. I don’t feel like an emergency room is the best option–I could be there for hours, which I can’t afford to do right now–nor is an Urgent Care because they might need X-rays, and I don’t think you can get that done at an Urgent Care. And while it’s unpleasant, it’s certainly not still as unpleasant as it was when it first happened or while I was in Alabama, so at least it’s getting better? I don’t know, I am beginning to think maybe I am not handling this the right way. I don’t know. Adulting is hard.
Heavy heaving sigh.
I also am pretty confident that if I can get myself to start writing again, my world will settle back down and I’ll be able to get a better grasp on everything.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader.