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Burn and Ache
Feb. 5th, 2009 07:33 pmFibromyalgia is still flaring badly, and my brain is caught up in it... all foggy and slow and slurred and I forget things.
Paranoia setting in. In less than a month, my 90-day probationary period at work ends, and even though I've been doing just fine, there are a few areas in which I must improve. I have many plates with many small things piled on each plate and a few times I have missed some of those small things to forgetting or pushing aside due to priority. I didn't prioritize enough. The supervisors realize and sympathize. But I still must improve my prioritizing skills. Probationary periods are always nerve-wracking. They tell you, "If all goes well for you at the end of the probation, etc etc" even if they expect that you're staying, and that throws you off into a kind of fear.
Fear, mindkiller, etcetera.
Dinner is leftovers. Chicken and cheesy potatoes and salad and a brownie cupcake. Adam is working late.
It is still freezing, and my right hand is still a mess, and the only things I can do are hoard Vicki's Sacred Circle Salve and her Psyche Lotion and an exfoliating toner spray and hope the skin stops cracking soon. My hand won't stop throbbing. At least it is not itching.
Luna greeted me at the door. She was on the kitty tree that stands at the floor-length window next to the front door. As I came in the door, she stretched out and mewed and licked my face and put her paws on my shoulders and nudged her head against mine. She does this a lot. I love my Luna.
Pain, pain, pain. Sigh.
Paranoia setting in. In less than a month, my 90-day probationary period at work ends, and even though I've been doing just fine, there are a few areas in which I must improve. I have many plates with many small things piled on each plate and a few times I have missed some of those small things to forgetting or pushing aside due to priority. I didn't prioritize enough. The supervisors realize and sympathize. But I still must improve my prioritizing skills. Probationary periods are always nerve-wracking. They tell you, "If all goes well for you at the end of the probation, etc etc" even if they expect that you're staying, and that throws you off into a kind of fear.
Fear, mindkiller, etcetera.
Dinner is leftovers. Chicken and cheesy potatoes and salad and a brownie cupcake. Adam is working late.
It is still freezing, and my right hand is still a mess, and the only things I can do are hoard Vicki's Sacred Circle Salve and her Psyche Lotion and an exfoliating toner spray and hope the skin stops cracking soon. My hand won't stop throbbing. At least it is not itching.
Luna greeted me at the door. She was on the kitty tree that stands at the floor-length window next to the front door. As I came in the door, she stretched out and mewed and licked my face and put her paws on my shoulders and nudged her head against mine. She does this a lot. I love my Luna.
Pain, pain, pain. Sigh.
