I wasn't doing too well yesterday to begin with. I was up and down all night, needing to hit the can. I got a few hours of sleep, somehow. I was supposed to be at work at 10 AM, but when I woke up at 8:30 it was to pain, lots of it, all over my body. Everything I had ached. I also felt dead tired, as if I had the flu; generalized fatigue which was not debilitating but certainly made me incapable of summoning the motivation to move. I mean, if I had suddenly been in mortal danger I could have moved, but I would have had to decide whether it was worth it or not first.
I ended up calling off work for the first time in quite a while. (When was the last time I was sick?) My body ached so much I didn't actually fall asleep again for a couple of hours, and when I did, I did not sleep very well. I was in bed until after 5 PM.
Decidedly not a fun time, that.
My original plan for Thursday had been to go to work, come home, run a few errands, and then cut the grass. Unfortunately, whatever malaise hit me prevented that. *sigh*
Mrs. Fungus has been suffering from something highly similar since Monday, but whatever it is it hit her harder than me because she's still got the approximate energy of a limp dishrag. I was able to force myself to go to work today, but the first three hours were tearing agony because of the fatigue and pain.
Yesterday I crowbarred myself out of bed and wrote yesterday's post, making a herculean effort not to talk about all this because I wanted to write about space exploration. (It was a near thing, I'll tell you that.) Then I ran one errand that I've been putting off, solely out of spite for whatever sinister illness laid me low...and also because it took me near the grocery store, where I was going to get hamburger buns and some other sundries for last night's dinner. Doing that, however, took all the wind out of my sails, and I returned home feeling like the dog's proverbial breakfast.
That was when I spilled Pepsi on the keyboard: when I sat at my computer to check my e-mail and see what my auctions in WoW were doing, I tried to take a drink etc. I grabbed the old wireless Logitech keyboard and plugged its receiver into the PC, so I'm able to write, but while this keyboard is a full-stroke keyboard it is really not well-suited to touch typing.
During a bit of downtime at work today I looked at what we have available, and was not impressed. If I spend much less than $100 I'm going to get a "chiclet" keyboard which is--again--ill-suited for touch typing. The gaming keyboards are perfect, but they start at $70 and rapidly climb to $YEECH!
So, I'm going to have to clean the wired keyboard. *sigh*
I never did get grass on the south side or in the immediate front yard cut, either, so now they're extra-long and the first day I'll be able to cut the grass is Sunday. Argh etc. Well, that's life when you have to work, right? Esp. when you can't afford to pay someone to cut it for you. The last time we had grass cutting estimated it was something like $50 a week, which is why Mom bought me the lawn tractor: it was a better investment for her to buy me that thing than to pay some schmoe the same amount over a summer, and as I was working at Target moving literal tons of freight in a night having a tractor made the chore a lot easier.
Today, then, I am still feeling half-embalmed. I feel better than I did, but "better" is not "good", and right now I feel like I could go to bed and sleep for a week.
* * *
Well, Wonderduck has lost his job. He's been really unhappy about how things were going there, so he's not as broken up as he thought he'd be. I commented there:
That's terrible, but it's also good. Speaking as someone who once had a job that was killing him, and who got fired from it, it's going to be a plus/minus thing.(posted here in case my comment goes to the bit bucket again.)
I still miss the paycheck. The pointy-haired boss, not so much.
But you're smart and hardworking and you'll find a better job.
What I actually miss about my tech writing job at Rockwell-Collins is not the latter two years but the first year. I hired on as a contract writer in November of 1998, and from then until early 2000 the job was as blissful as you could imagine a job being. I loved my job during that year, loved it more than I have ever loved a job before or since.
Then they ruined it, and after January of 2000 was when that job started to kill me. If I had remained in that job I would have had a heart attack by now, in all probability, because of the killing stress.
* * *
I like to believe that I'm on the S list in Larry Corriea's alphabetical list of author success.
* * *
28,504 new low maximum temperature records set this year so far. This means we're having a cold year.
Yesterday I had the bunker ventilating with outside air, and I needed sweatpants and a hoodie to stay warm. In July.
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Power is going to cost more and be more scarce in New England! Closing down oil and coal fired plants with nothing to replace them--smart. Not letting energy companies build gas pipelines to fuel all the natural gas-fired plants that went up to replace the closed plants--even smarter.
I am, of course, being sarcastic.
* * *
Now I must make spaghetti.