Tuesday, February 27, 2024

the birthday struggle

 I guess it's a good thing I had a decent day Saturday; I'm struggling a bit today. After my leg feeling better yesterday (and as a result, I stood and walked more), it hurts again today and I wonder "What do I do if it's NEVER totally better?? what if this is just my life now?" It's really not good enough to do fieldwork or even really lead field  labs.

I bleakly wonder if any accommodations are in place for a field scientist who can no longer "field," or if the answer is "take early retirement lest you lose your job over teaching poorly and not doing research"

I mean, MAYBE it will be better. But it's been six plus weeks, and I still have some pain. Especially today, and I'm hoping that's that we're facing a BIG weather change (big temperature drop, and I presume, big pressure change). 

Also, none of the packages I am expecting (all stuff I ordered) are moving. My monthly yarn box FINALLY made it to Tulsa, but it might be a couple more days. Other things just seem stuck at a sorting center. And no paper mail for me today - 0 mail pieces on Informed Delivery. (A card would have been nice ON THE DAY. My mom did send me one earlier and I've gotten a few "client cards" from places that send out cards to their customers or patients). 

Also, dinner's going to be a bit complicated. I wanted to get at least a slice of cake but there's nowhere to get one, and I have a Zoom interview with a job candidate at 5. I could probably still pick up barbecue after that, but just fitting the pieces of when to do things together makes me tired.


and I would really like a piece of cake. But oh well, unless I stop at Green Spray and hobble in and buy one of those not-that-great frozen Pepperidge Farm cakes, I won't have one. (I haven't the time or energy to make one tonight). 

I do have a few gifts from my mom (I think I know what they are) to unwrap. Nothing from my brother; I'm not surprised but I am disappointed. My mom even said she hinted to him when she talked to him a bit back, but....yeah, no. I know I'm not a priority to them. It's okay, or at least I'm trying to reconcile myself to it. 

I had WANTED to get out to a local shop that a friend told me had cute but orthopedic type shoes but I didn't have time today - had to write an exam, wanted to do some research reading. Tomorrow will be a busy day and at the end of the day I have to prep Thursday's lab. (Teaching three separate labs with no TA help is no joke). 

Friday afternoon I have a dental checkup and I really don't love that; I had hoped to be free of medical stuff for at least a little bit, but I made this six months ago when I didn't know I'd be injured so I'm just keeping it. 


I'm telling myself, but not really believing myself, that by Spring Break (three weeks from now) I will be Almost Totally Better! and I can take a day and go BACK to the yarn shop and go to Michael's and get caught up on stuff and maybe even get back to working on the Moominhouse.


Still, it would help if one of the several things I had ordered would arrive. But it won't. And UPS is one again doing the "hey, we're gonna hand your package off to USPS and it'll take 3-4 more days, or, oh hey, pay an upcharge to have us deliver it in one day instead!" and that feels slimy to me and that's how the world works now - that if you want the things you once got as a matter of course, now you have to pay an upcharge. 


Anyway, I don't quite know what would fix me. Well, cake would, maybe, but I don't see that happening. I will get barbecue for dinner so AT LEAST I won't have to cook. (no they don't show any desserts I would want on their current online menu. Sometimes they do have cake but not today, it looks like)


Adult birthdays are a rip off, and this one - my 55th - feels especially so.


Update: at least I got the barbecue carry out after the interview ended around 6



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Happy birthday! Mine’s next week (60-yikes!) and I can’t eat any fat or much of anything (post gallbladder surgery) so yeah I agree, adult birthdays suck. — Grace in MA