&*$%#!!

Damn. It’s cold. I know, I know. It gets cold every winter. But every winter, I take the dip in temperature as a personal affront. People, it sleeted on me on the way home last night. I had to stand outside in the sleet and hail when I got home, covering the plants as best I could, hoping that they don’t all just shrivel up and die.  Poor, poor plants. I’m a bad plant mommy.

And, apparently, my cover is completely blown. I blame the norther. Its howling winds and freezing temperatures, combined with Hell Week at work, seem to have left me actually looking as bad as I feel. OK, maybe it was the cervical collar. Or the knee brace. Or me having to take a lie-down on the back office floor because back went out. Or the ashen look on my face ams I fought down nausea and headache most of the evening. Maybe the boss is right and I am falling more often.

If only I could get someone to reduce my left shoulder before my left hand gets anymore numb. But, sad. I’d usually ask my housemate but he’s actually sick right now, and I’m completely what passes for healthy in my gene pool. And in many ways, I feel better tonight than I have in several days. I don’t know if this is because the front is actually here now instead of coming in, or if I’m feeling some low-grade giddiness antecedant to headache. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

a bit of whinging

Poopy poopy poop poop.

OK, first, I think I have tracked down my migraine-inducer to the latest GF flour I was using. Back to corn and buckwheat! But in the meantime, I have a mouthful of cold sores and the intestinal distress that lets me know that things don’t look so great on the inside either. One week and running. So to speak. Maybe by the end of this week, it will finally all be out of my system. But I have a lot of this flour leftover. Any ideas on what to do with it?

Second, it’s hell time at work, which means a lot more physical movement than my joints like. Everything hurts. Except for the things which are tingly with pinched nerves. Things like, oh, my hands.

Third, I’m not very happy with people purposely getting in the way of me doing things that make my work place more accessible or with them making comments about how I do things. I don’t care if it isn’t the way you do things. It’s the way I do it.

But fourth is funny. My housemate just woke up screaming and prancing around from a giant cockroach having run into his pajamas. I only have pain. He has a cockroach in his drawers. I think I’m ahead.

Dear Canada

Can we borrow some of your judges?

I ask because I read this article in the Globe and Mail, which discusses why the Ontario Court of Appeal found in favor of Kevin Keays against Honda.

A couple of years after Kevin Keays’s grim struggle with chronic fatigue syndrome began to play havoc with his work attendance at an Ontario Honda Canada plant, co-workers took to mocking his constant absenteeism with cruel cartoons and resentful ridicule.

With workplace morale in a tailspin and their patience spent, Honda managers decided the situation was at the point of no return. They fired Mr. Keays, spawning a bitter court battle that resulted in a record-setting damage award for him – granted by a judge who blasted the company for an “outrageous” campaign of intimidation against Mr. Keays.

The case is to be heard on appeal by the Canadian Supreme Court. Best of luck, Canada!

I’ll never dig out from under

Is there a rescue service for the hopelessly cluttered? Right now, every room in my house is a mess filled with things that I have no particular place for. Part of the problem is that I am in the midst of changing the designation of two rooms. The office is now a bedroom and the bedroom is turning into a studio and there is no office but there are still bookcases and files and a printer that have to go somewhere. A person who had that mysterious something something called stamina would finish such an undertaking in one weekend, but this is going to take me at least 2 more weekends to finish, what with needing to recruit man-in-a-can and fit everything into my busy whirlwind lifestyle. Then there’s the problem that, even if everything was moved already, it isn’t like I keep up with household chores. I go to work. I come home. I sit in the recliner and fall asleep. For financial reasons, it would be good if I had full-time employment. But I really have doubts that I could manage one for more than a few months before having a complete health breakdown. But then, if I had full-time employment, with all the benefits and income that would bring, maybe I could hire some help.