Great Bosses=Pain
I have a pretty great work environment. And my bosses can be very thoughtful. For my b-day/a bonus, they bought me a laptop. I got it last week. I mainly just wanted something to haul to a cafe to do writing on, and this thing is more than I needed. It's a very nice thing they did, and I appreciate it very much.

But then, I lugged it down to a cafe Saturday morning and proceeded to lift the messenger-bag I had it in over my shoulder in such a way that I wrenched my lower back, which is now in a lot of pain. Which is to say that I'm in a lot of pain. Lame. I couldn't even sit and write in the cafe for long because it hurt.

Talk about self-sabotaging. What the heck is wrong with me? Sure, I'm 36 now, but geez...I'm freakin' falling apart. Between taking a week to recover from food poisoning to hurting myself lifting an extra 10 lbs. in just the wrong way, I'm starting to think that the future of Jeff's body does not bode well.


Filed under:Health

Pain
The haunting simplicity of Alexis' post about being alone as a familiar pattern keeps coming back to me.

In particular, it makes me think again and again of a Really Bad Day that I had last year, when I had to go to the doctor because I couldn't hear properly out of both of my ears, and how the isolation that the combination of being sick, being still recently broken-up-with, and being unable to hear people just kicked me when I was down. Repeatedly.

And even though I'm not in that state any longer--though I talk about break-ups ad naseum still, the sting isn't quite the same these days--being sick makes me feel the most alone. I suppose it makes sense: At a time when it's most apparent that one needs other people, one feels the lack of others. On the other hand, I did live through that day, and other days.

Speaking of which: Got food poisoning Monday night. The sad thing is, it's almost undoubtedly from my favorite taqueria, which I go to at least once a week. Or, whichI went to once a week. No burritos for me for a while, I think. Likely what happened is somehow some shrimp got into my veggie burrito or something--I'm allergic to shrimp in that food poisoning sort of way--but regardless of the reasons, I'll not be going back for a while. So Monday night was horrible. Up all night puking, dry-heaving, cold-sweating. And Tuesday wasn't much better. Stayed home from work. Got up just a few times to get some water, some graham crackers, and eventually, in my big triumph of the day, some rice. Wanted some soda water or 7-up or something, but didn't have the strength to make it to the corner store. This morning, rode to work veeeeerrrrrrrry slowly. I'm running at about 25% I think. Brain is Slow.

The funny thing about the whole lonely-while-sick thing is this: I wouldn't have wanted anybody there, really. Especially not on Monday night. I'm a very bad patient in that regard. But somebody who loves me to stop by with some juice or bubbly drink--that would have been very, very nice. And that's one of the things about having an intimate romantic relationship; if you talk every day, then at least somebody knows it when you're out for the day. Why is that comforting? I'm not sure, but it is.

Filed under:Health

Pain
The haunting simplicity of Alexis' post about being alone as a familiar pattern keeps coming back to me.

In particular, it makes me think again and again of a Really Bad Day that I had last year, when I had to go to the doctor because I couldn't hear properly out of both of my ears, and how the isolation that the combination of being sick, being still recently broken-up-with, and being unable to hear people just kicked me when I was down. Repeatedly.

And even though I'm not in that state any longer--though I talk about break-ups ad naseum still, the sting isn't quite the same these days--being sick makes me feel the most alone. I suppose it makes sense: At a time when it's most apparent that one needs other people, one feels the lack of others. On the other hand, I did live through that day, and other days.

Speaking of which: Got food poisoning Monday night. The sad thing is, it's almost undoubtedly from my favorite taqueria, which I go to at least once a week. Or, whichI went to once a week. No burritos for me for a while, I think. Likely what happened is somehow some shrimp got into my veggie burrito or something--I'm allergic to shrimp in that food poisoning sort of way--but regardless of the reasons, I'll not be going back for a while. So Monday night was horrible. Up all night puking, dry-heaving, cold-sweating. And Tuesday wasn't much better. Stayed home from work. Got up just a few times to get some water, some graham crackers, and eventually, in my big triumph of the day, some rice. Wanted some soda water or 7-up or something, but didn't have the strength to make it to the corner store. This morning, rode to work veeeeerrrrrrrry slowly. I'm running at about 25% I think. Brain is Slow.

The funny thing about the whole lonely-while-sick thing is this: I wouldn't have wanted anybody there, really. Especially not on Monday night. I'm a very bad patient in that regard. But somebody who loves me to stop by with some juice or bubbly drink--that would have been very, very nice. And that's one of the things about having an intimate romantic relationship; if you talk every day, then at least somebody knows it when you're out for the day. Why is that comforting? I'm not sure, but it is.

Filed under:Health