Saturday 1/7 — I was wobbly on my feet and a bit sick feeling but I could ignore it and help Jackie move. By the evening I was drinking alcohol and OK. The last 3 times I’ve drunk I’ve been really ill after only 2 drinks, so great improvement.
Trigger? — Friday’s sick note excitement.
Sunday 2/7 — Any untowardness felt has to be put down to the BBQ & night out.
Monday 3/7 (day) — I felt nauseous all day in work but instead of the heavy nausea that I’ve learnt to loathe it was an acidic sick feeling that I found tolerable. I was a bit wobbly, too. It was alright. I found, because the sickness wasn’t so heavy and consuming, I didn’t mind this if this is how it wants to be.
Trigger? — ??? Maybe residual booze. I didn’t drink Sunday. Could also be from how annoyed I got when my heavy footed neighbour got home at midnight and slammed the front door, woke me up, stomped all the way upstairs, slammed his door, stomped through his flat, slammed something on the floor, and carried on like this for a good ten minutes.
Monday night — not so great. The acidic sick feeling is now that heavy sick feeling, I need to fingertip stroke both hall walls to get to the bathroom, my eyes are misfocusing, there is a bit of twitch there too, and if I get up too quick I feel a bit faint, a bit unsteady. It’s best I don’t move too much.
Trigger? — Rage. I got into one of my muttery, sarcastic, don’t linger near me too long because I’ll bite you’re head off although I look like I might crack a joke, rages. This form of rage catches most off guard.
It started before noon when my landlord sent a text telling me that I hadn’t paid my rent when I bloody well had. Screenshot later got that proved nicely. Maybe if he spelt my name correctly he’d have seen my payment on his statement — Tomus, today. That really gets my goat.
And then it was a communication fail that got me not having it all muttery and sarcastic, as sweet as pie, evil eye, raging. I found out that I’m no longer the Dictator of the Post, I’m a locum who isn’t needed at the moment. I suspected as much but today I got told with words.
As I calm and feel ever increasingly more shit, I’m sort of looking at this rage over there and trying to work out why exactly I wasn’t having it.
My landlord is my landlord and he doesn’t do much that I’ve not learnt to expect. He does my nut in but screenshots, stuff like that, save the days. It would be helpful if he, I don’t know, looked before spouting off but he won’t, ever.
And my dethronement is only because I liked the post. Most days I forced myself in (then got sent home) because of the post. Scanning it, dishing it, bossing people about — I liked it because only a few can; my ugly baby. No more. Well, I can maybe but it’s unlikely for a while because the phones are busy.
Gone, 2 emails. I was surprised to be told like that; a quick 14 minutes heads up and then a group email that had all the detail. No “Here, Tom, this is what’s happening” conversation. Just done, did, what’s your problem?
How I reacted was by replying ‘ok’, and then I festered, and then I got up and told a trainer that I’d forward the editable copies of the Post Guides I’d spent a month of my own time writing (I made special note to mention) to her in the morning. I then asked if the whole locum maybe bit was just a head pat when things could be better streamlined.
So that’s what I did, partially reasonable — I’m always polite, so that’s good. In my head, though, my baby’s been snatched and I’m screaming.
Is Tai Chi and Talking Change going to be enough?
Not all of the above can be considered reasonable reactions to things happening.
Landlord did what landlord does best, so why get so angry?
The post, I’d take it away from me because of my sick leave. I’d heads-up, though, maybe in a conversation and better than 14 minutes.
The way I’m seeing it, and this is not very reasonable (or it might be), is that this damn vertigo got the post taken away from me. I might’ve liked to learn more, have a bit more responsibility, but I wasn’t around when the decision was made. I can’t even guarantee it at present. Vertigo. I’m left with the phone.
I loved the post.
And that’s why I don’t think Tai Chi and Talking Change is going to be enough.
I’m not entirely rational, am I?
The landlord, fair enough, but the post? I mean, it’s the post — letters and emails, just giving it to people to do. Just post. Boring old post. It smelt like freshly embalmed bodies. It only brought back memories.
So how do I become rational?
Yet another problem to solve.