I was in so much pain yesterday that I decided a “quick nap” was in order around 1:00 PM. We will not discuss that I slept way too long. In turn, I didn’t get any editing done. I fed cat and kitten because they were both staring at me pathetically, doing tricks, and bringing me toys as if they were forgotten street urchins. Meows and chirps were also involved. Mind you, they had full bowls of dry food, they simply like the can opening routine. After that I made sure my laundry was dry (Towels and bath sheets are screwing with me lately when they are normally dry in 40 minutes. It now takes an additional 10-20 minutes for them to be thoroughly dry. Perhaps I need to put them on a second spin cycle before drying from now on?), and then a migraine took me down, thus resulting in me retreating to bed at 9:04 PM. That was migraine #11. This morning, migraine #12 decided to pay me a visit. FML.
I am sitting here contemplating how bad the headache is (Can I clean my microwave and fridge without puking? Can I strip my bed and wash all of the linens without falling down the stairs from the newfound vertigo? Should I wait before I shower so I don’t hit my head and pass out?) because I still have things that need to get done. Essentially, these are all things that can wait until this passes (Please God, let it pass. I have exactly one Excedrin Tension Headache left and it is sold out in four different stores, including the generic version. WTH?!), but I really don’t want to “take a nap” and pray that I’ll be okay later on because migraines are fickle bastards and I am not in control of how long they stick around. 😦 I also wanted to do something fun because learning new things is a positive thing, but I don’t know if I can stomach that at the moment. When I’m in pain, i don’t have a lot of patience for minutia. When I’m not in pain I don’t have a lot of patience, so it is what it is.
I remember a time when Saturday was an enjoyable time to sleep in, do something fun in the afternoon, and leisurely enjoy the weekend to the fullest. Apparently that’s in the past for now, but I long for the days when the pain is gone and I can live my life without scheduling every last detail around migraines or Fibromyalgia.
Here’s hoping & praying there are cures in sight, or at the very least, reliable forms of treatment.
Friday morning I stated that I’d rest this weekend and get things done inside my home, as much as humanly possible. I mentally calculated exactly how much laundry needed to be done, and then factored a few others things into the mix. What I did not factor in was a terrible Fibro flare and bouts of sleeplessness that drove me up a wall. Why couldn’t that have happened last week? Because I was working like a dog in between migraines and the day and a half I spent unable to move, so apparently my body waited and the second I had time to breathe, I got slammed. I’m livid that it is now Monday and that my “weekend” was so bizarre in it’s lack of time.
I know I am being unfair to myself. I’m not a machine and I do have to factor pain into my daily life. There was a lot I wanted to get done from Friday until now. As I angrily folded laundry a little while ago, the only load I did this weekend that isn’t even my stuff, I realized just what a wasted weekend this was.
Who’s looking forward to another hot, miserable work-filled week? Not I. Plus, I’ve got about four loads of laundry that need to get done. In all fairness, one could be up right now, but I will not move a happily sleeping kitten off of my bed in order to yank the linens so she can think it’s some kind of evil game and destroy another set of sheets. I cannot get a soul to hold her so I can trim her nails. Apparently everyone is afraid of the world’s sweetest, sassiest kitten. I don’t want to traumatize her by pinning her down with my body to get two nails, if I’m lucky, before she hisses, cries, or attempts to bite me. Believe me, I understand her frustration and I don’t take her reactions to heart, though the crying kills me. She’s not a mean biter and she’s not mean, period, she simply doesn’t understand why her nails need to be cut. As sweet and loving as she is, a lot of basic kindness is scary to her. I have to keep trying as patiently as I can so that she doesn’t have these fears later on in life. This is residual shelter trauma; it has nothing to do with her life with me. Knowing that, I can utilize far more patience than if it were a person. Animals and babies are one of my speeds. People need to handle their own shit.
I am looking forward to work this week in a “I really like this particular client” sort of way. I spent about an hour on the phone with a client one afternoon to be certain of what he needed from me. We had a lovely conversation and he was incredibly pleased with the work I turned in. During our conversation he said he wanted to keep my information close at hand in order to hire me again for other editing/writing jobs. That is the only time I will write for someone else, when they know what they want, but can’t quite put the words together cohesively. Most times, that’s less than 500 words and it takes no time at all, but some people cannot put their internalized thoughts onto paper, so an idea is scattered and hiring someone to polish the idea is a good way to find the right person for the job you’re looking to hire for. Hiring field specific people is a really great concept.
My point, however, is that he contacted me yesterday for another job. I wasn’t 1000% sure I’d hear from him again, but I’m glad that I did. It’s nice dealing with people who get it and have respect for your time, knowledge, and the work you do. Most people just made rude demands. I had someone point out a tiny error I made, which happens. I’m not perfect, it was late, and all she had to do was delete one word. I asked if she wanted me to redo the entire file, but instead she took up over an hour of my time asking me to proof the work that SHE had just re-edited. (Did your jaw just hit the floor? I was astounded by the stupidity because it resulted in a two hour phone conversation the following afternoon to make sure I’d get paid for the time.) Did I mention that this was a corporate job and her English is swimming somewhere between broken and non-existent? I suspect she was using Google translate because revising her thoughts was like playing with a puzzle, and the message “Is it done yet?” grated on my nerves because I informed her precisely how long it would take and that I’d get it back to her by late Thursday evening EDT. It is all too easy not to want to do specific jobs after a while based on the treatment of clients that do not understand that not everything can be done in 60 seconds. It’s incredibly unrealistic to expect that, but it is what it is and I have the right to pick and choose the jobs I take, for that reason alone. I am excited to see what this new opportunity brings. I wish every opportunity was a prosperous one. Alas, many are not, so I do my job and move on. That’s all I can do, my best.
And now, despite all this back pain, I am off to tackle at least two loads of laundry since kitten has moved along. I suspect she will be back soon to thoroughly inspect all the clean linens I’ve put down since stripping my bed and quickly dashing downstairs to the laundry room (Cat has already given me a mixture of approval, disdain, and attitude.). Now if I could just find the perfect pillow…
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 