so mike and i are going to pittsburgh this weekend for my brother's birthday. i had a full list of things to get ready for today - get things settled for the catsitter, clean the kitchen, do some laundry so i have something to wear, pack, rig up my bike for the weekend, sort out my medications (this takes about a half hour every week to load them into my "morning" and "evening" weekly pill boxes, ugh) ... there was a lot.

the thing is, i have been tired as actual fuck this week. because i end up overcharging my energy credit card during the week, i usually try to save up and pay it off on weekends, meaning i need lots of sleep, relaxing, and a good amount of alone solo-time. because of the recent messes (previous posts), i haven't had a free weekend to myself since the middle of june. this means not only am i exhausted, and carrying around the static background-noise of someone who hasn't been able to ground herself and clear everything out*, but of course the house is a mess and i am behind on everything.

(*i am also suffering from not having my Vicodin at the moment; those four hours of reduced pain help me clear out the static noise and ground myself like fuck, but because i have to go back to formal pain management (which is a process) i don't even have that tool in the toolbox right now.)

so anyway, i am tired and pretty strung out at the moment, but it's jim's birthday and mary wants us to be a surprise, so we'll be a surprise :)

so last night, i come home tired from the pain-load on my circuits. i take two tramadol and a glass of wine, which i'm sure my liver is mad cool about but it helps shut the pain up when i don't have opiates. i crash on the couch for a bit, with cats, and then slowly start hitting my chores. i make a pact with myself because i'm watching Chopped on tv, so every commercial break i get up and do a thing. this continues on, laundry and litterboxes and drugs, via Chopped and Beat Bobby Flay commercials (look, i love BBF, it's all fancy cooking and trash talk, that's my jam), until the second wind wears off and i get tired. well, i say, i'll get up early in the morning to finish it.

the alarm goes off at 5:00.

1. i am having a dream where a group of people (no one i know, which is surprising for my dreams) and i are hosting some kind of event luncheon thing with food and wine for fucking Donald Trump and some Republicans, I guess trying to talk some sense into them or come to an accord or argue with them or spy on them or, i don't know, it seems reasonable in the dream. and i'm some kind of power hostess but i'm focusing mainly on the cooking (thanks, fucking Chopped and Beat Bobby Flay), and trying to make points and break up fights while making sure everyone has food?, i mean at one point i fucking leave an argument to go make more fried cornmeal balls (hushpuppies i guess)???? so like: i'm already pretty discombobulated.
2. i finally manage to get out of bed, after some snooze buttons, at about 6:00
3. i head downstairs, turn on the keurig, head to the basement. pull the dry laundry out of the dryer and put the wet laundry in the dryer. yes, i went to bed with laundry in the washing machine. it was literally only there for like 5 hours, it didn't smell or anything
4. i get my coffee and sit down on the floor to fold the laundry but i'm tired as fuck and end up playing out my stamina in FFBE
5. i fold the laundry, while finishing FFBE/FFRK stamina, with Iggy and Potato helping. this literally hakes maybe an hour? i'm so tired i feel heavy, like i'm moving slowly because everything weighs 500lb, including my thoughts
6. i finish the laundry and go to get the cats ready. write a note, set out food, fill their dishes, give them wet food breakfast, get everything set
7. my brain finally processes that i had a dream about catering donald fucking trump, where i made him bruschetta and fucking hushpuppies rather than punching him in the face, maybe with a knife. i spend a good 15 minutes severely disappointed in my subconscious
8. it's starting to get close to when i should be leaving for work, and i'm starting to unravel a bit here. i go upstairs to pack. weirdly i fucking gained back 9lb in the month of july, i do not know how, so i'm also trying on everything i want to pack to make sure it fits. a lot of random shit just goes in the bag
9. i spend a half hour sorting out my pills. i have 20 empty pill bottles and at least 2-3 refills of each type, which makes everything more confusing than it should be. i do not know how it happened and my brain really wants to know rather than focus on getting each med in its appropriate pill box. eventually the boxes are full
10. i scramble to get ready for work, throw some shit on, the jeans are actually still damp but honestly i ignore it bc they stretch out better that way after a wash. hair goes up in a braid, fucks not given
11. head down to start loading the car. checking my important list on my phone. get jim's gift in the back seat, bike pump in the trunk because once it had a spider on it. look around the garage, and i don't have my bike rack
12. it must be in fucking mike's garage
13. i legit spend 20 minutes attempting to cram my goddamn bicycle into the back seat of my fucking honda civic
14. i mean, maybe if i take the front wheel off
15. the front wheel isn't coming off, the brakes are in the way
16. how do i undo brakes
17. maybe if i wedge it this way
18. fuck it we're gonna have to stop by on the way out and get my bike
19. head back in to wash the oil and smudge off of my hands. i am sweaty, and extremely cranky at this point
20. hands clean, everything else in the car, head out to get in and go to work
21. the bike rack is hanging from one of my ceiling hooks
22. someone was helpful and "put it away"
23. at this point i am decidedly sweaty, cranky, and obscenely late for work. there's a constant stream of "fuck you, fuck this, fucking fuck, fuck this shit, fuck everything" coming out of my mouth like i'm reciting the world's worst rosary
24. while taking the rack down the straps get caught in my hair and pull half of it out. everything is terrible
25. the rack is on the fucking car. the bike is on the fucking rack. go wash my hands again.
26. get into the car. what's on my seat? oh, it's the post it note of my to-do list. let's check it. i forgot to leave the key for the fucking catsitter
27. fuck you, fuck this, fucking fuck, fuck this shit, fuck everything
28. the key is safely in a plastic bag in its place
29. i am stopping at starbucks if it fucking kills me
30. literally i do not care if i am fired for being late i'm getting a goddamn starbucks

...

1. get to work. no one is here. half the group is traveling or on vacation, and the other half is off for 9/80 fridays. all my brain can come up with is "9/11" and i sit staring into space for 20 mins trying to figure out what the 9/11 schedule is
2. it is surreal
3. i don't know what i'm doing

so now i really just want a nap. and another starbucks

Based on this, let's see how we did in January... For context, in January, I:
* Dealt with furnace break and repair for about 5 days
* Babysat my niece from a Thursday night to the next Monday morning
* Went to Pittsburgh with my partner to marry two of my best friends
* Got knocked on my ass for 2 days by a surprise sinus infection
* went through an absolutely horrible HR-centric clusterfuck which ended in having to terminate a previously (technically) excellent employee, which was draining

So, as much as I may not want to admit it, I didn't have as much weekend time as I would have liked. But also, I let things slip.

Let's see....

1. Health:

   • I didn't make it to the gym at all. I meant to, but it did not happen. I need to make myself a true workout plan and stick to it.
   • I did actually eat pretty healthy (except that weekend in Pittsburgh where I said my words over lemon drop shots and we signed their marriage license making sure there was a nice beer ring on the paper) with food at home - not packing lunches yet. Also, I did clean out my fridge and pantry.
   • not sure on weight -- I had lost 5 lb, and then this morning I'd gained 5 -- I did just put my NuvaRing back in, so it may be hormonal water holding.
   • My dr and I have added a medication to my fibromyalgia treatment package (so I am now on Cymbalta, Lyrica, buproprion, buspirone, Mobic, and trazodone) and I have adjusted my supplement regimen so that I'm focusing on boosting my immune system which is at what may be an all-time low. I had the med adjustment period, but I am hopeful.

2. Writing: I'm at 1/52 for the prompts (should be at 5/52). I did write two pieces for prompt #1 though?

3. Art: I'm at 14/365 (should be at 31/365). It actually surprises me that I've done 14, although probably only 25% of them have been anything above the layer of crap. However, it means I should be able to do >0 arts this year - maybe I can keep up with it?

4. Home: I haven't done this well. Although I did get the fucking furnace fixed; it's great when I can surprise the repairman because shock, I'm an engineer, and while I wouldn't necessarily start pulling out wires inside my furnace panel, I certainly know what a draft inducer blower is, and that it should not have water in it

5. Mental: I've done OK in letting hobbies be chores. With this new medication plan I'm going through the grieving process of believing I would ever be a healthy, able-bodied person again.

6. Work: I am taking huge steps in making it clear where my line is between assisting on a project and completing action items for it. I also had the awful situation I outlined above, which will be saved for another post.

7. F&F: I saw my niece, and went to Pittsburgh to visit (marry) friends - with my partner, and we had an absolutely fantastic time with each other. I did ask him for support when I needed it while going through the horrible HR fiasco, and we talked a bit about where boundaries might be.

Rather than setting firm goals for February, instead I want to just pick three areas to focus in:

1. GET TO THE GYM. THERE'S ONE RIGHT UP THE ROAD IN A DIFFERENT BUILDING ON THE WORK CAMPUS.
2. Uncluttering. Laundry / clothes to donate is a big area of shame right now.
3. Make up some ground on my art & writing commitments.

[EDIT] ok so I really like Markdown but there's something funny about this version of it that's making me mad

...or some other shittastic ~~pensive~~ title because I'm so fucking out of goddamn fucks already it's the 14th half of january is gone jesus christ stop fucking moving so fast i would like off this ride thanks

I like the organization of "new year resolutions" not really because I believe you need to wait for a calendar year to make serious changes, but because there's something very neat about the way things can slot into having to write a new date on all your sign-offs and checks do people still use checks? i only have to sign them at work and lists and notes; to the excel spreadsheet that is my mind¹, I like the way aligning change with change sorts itself.

This year I am returning to quantifiable goals in some ways, since the general vagueness of "do X more" may be more friendly but does not truly work in the lifestyle I have at the moment. I wanted to do a deep introspective post as a lead in but fuck that, I already have two truly severe horror stories about 2017² and it's the 14th, but I feel like I want to make a statement about the year before I devolve back into bitchcraft and wizardry.

As another change this year, I am looking for friends to help keep me accountable to these things. I've already roped and wrangled a couple people along with me, but if you have similar goals, let's discuss ways we can shame uh motivate SHAME each other into proceeding, or mainly just me, I require someone to - not compete with, but to keep up with, in a way, anyway, I am terrible so do stop.

So here is a list of my intentions for what I have labeled 12/52/365/2017³:

1. Health. Rather than breaking this down into a tale of my woes and triggering an actual breakdown I will instead list the targets:

   • Get more than 4.5 hours of (good, deep, REM) sleep on average. According to my Fitbit, my average in 2016 was below 4.5 hours⁴. This involves a lot of things, including going to bed earlier and somehow figuring out how robots relax.
   • Working out. My goal for working out is to visit the gym - or otherwise work out - on at least 1/3 of the days of 2017: 122/365/2017. 122 visits. This is 2-3 workouts a week on average which should be doable for someone with fibro, assuming I keep them reasonable.
   • General. Continue stocking and making healthy food at home. Drink less at home⁵. Go back to packing lunches for work.
   • Weight/Size. Due to medication changes, 3 surgeries, and a major job change with severely increased my responsibilities, I gained 25-30 lb in 2017, putting me into the beginnings of an unhealthy place I don't want to be⁶. It's also fairly annoying to be at the upper limit of most of my clothing, to be frank. My goal is to use the above 3 points to try to lose 25+ pounds in 2017, OR return to the range of a size 8-10⁷ where my clothing lives. 25/2017. A half a pound a week will do.

2. Writing. lassarina is my partner here; we have pledged to write a fic a week of at least 100 words using a list of prompts we gathered earlier. (Of course, I am already behind, although I plan to work on that immediately after this entry.) 52/2017. The hope, of course, is that writing small things helps to spur the writing of larger things. They will be posted on AO3 and linked from here.

   • subgoal: at least 1 entry a week on DW (52/2017), and 1 entry a week on my secret business blog which I will share once I have some substance (52/2017).

3. Art. justira is my partner here; we have, quite hilariously, pledged to draw a thing a day. For Ira, those things may be recognizable as art; for me, I reserve the right to draw a shit doodle with my finger on my iPhone, as long as it is a drawing of some sort. They'll be posted right here at the Feymarch Library where most of my art shame lives.

4. Home. Of course I have big statements to make about the first floor remodel I want to do, but honestly this is about habits, so my 2017 goal is to declutter my life. Every day I will do at least 1 chore dedicated to decluttering my home⁸ or otherwise making my life easier (cooking a big meal for the week, etc).

5. Mental. A few mantras I am focusing on:

   • Allow hobbies to be chores. This sounds counter-intuitive, but last year I got away from a lot of hobbies I love because I had "so much other shit to do" that was more important in my mind. This year, writing, art, knitting, gaming, reading; these are allowed to be chores I can give priority to. It's okay to write if I still have dishes to do.
   • Recharge your battery. If I have a night where I am truly in too much pain to do anything, I need to stop whining and griping about that, and instead focus on my own comfort and recovery, because self-care is allowed to be a priority, also.
   • Ground myself. I'm not a nice person by default⁹ so making a pledge to share the love or be kinder doesn't really mean anything to me; but I believe I can eliminate some of the negative energy by grounding myself more and letting it just pass on into the neutral environment rather than building up a static charge.
   • Be more of who you are. I lost my way at work somewhat this year faced with a gigantic new challenge with no lessening of my previous responsibilities, interpersonal conflicts, and some sporadic and questionable criticism. Moving forward I need to remember who the fuck I am and be that lady as hard as possible, because that's where I am awesomest.
   • Allow myself to unplug. I don't have to be tied to my phone - not just for work, but texting with friends or playing stamina games. I can leave it in the corner and just be for an evening.

6. Work. I need to focus on managing more: I am a manager, not a contributor, and I need to focus more on leading and guiding people in big-picture ways towards improvement. Too many people list me as a project leader or member, when I should not be a worker on anyone's project - and this is what makes my job so unmanageable. It isn't just me letting go; I need to make it clear to others that there should be more than one person who knows how to do the things I do.

7. Family & Friends.

   • See my nieces at least once a month. See my parents at least once a quarter.
   • Continue to work with my partner on this great relationship we have developed. Learn to ask him for help more, and learn where his boundaries are for asking help. Show love and appreciation better. Develop a good schedule for spending more time together - we are both very obviously happier and healthier when we do.
   • Try to visit someone or travel at least once a quarter -- traveling is really costly to me in terms of energy, but I have broken through some of my traveling-and-health fears last year (Japan!) so it would be cool to travel a bit with friends when the opportunity is there.
   • Stay in touch: post, email, text. Reach out in new areas.

Seven is my lucky number. That's 2017.

¹ (mind palace?? nothing so fancy; my brain is a four-dimensional fully-formulated spreadsheet archive with tabs, complete with charts, graphs, and little programs that sort by categories and make a smiley face out of pixels.)

² the first, about my fucking furnace; the second, about my fucking supervisor. stay tuned for more great literature on what makes my life a goddamned shitshow shitcom!

³ because I want to quantify it and report on things, see, like the project manager i am

⁴ Now, the reason I am not dead is because there is also some restless sleep in there, but the problem is twofold: (a) i only get 4.5 fucking hours of the good sleep (b) the good sleep comes in 30-45 minute spurts which is nowhere near what's needed for mental recovery (c) for fibromyalgia one of the most productive and healing things you can do is get REM sleep.

⁵ lolololoLLOLOLOLLOOLLOOLOLOLLLLLLLLLLL

⁶ lots of family history of pre-diabetes; I've already noticed my hypoglycemia and blood sugar problems are getting worse. I realize this isn't always correlated to weight but as there is some data pointing that way (scientific as well as family), I want to be sure to avoid it, because dude if you stack fuckin diabetes on top of this stack of medical bullshit I may just ravine myself

⁷ since women's sizes can never make up their damn minds

⁸ on bad days this might actually be something like "put dishes in dishwasher" but let's face it sometimes even that doesn't happen

⁹ nothing against anyone, I'm just kind of sociopathic and hate people in general; i've learnt to "play nice" and I can and do feel love for specific people, but i'm really just not friendly