Nov. 7th, 2011 06:39 pm
sparkindarkness: (Default)
I had a lot planned today. I was going to be super-duper productive, I had a to-do list and everything. I was totally ready to be useful. I had plans! They were good plans!

And then, towards the end of the afternoon I get a blinding migraine (which means tomorrow I need to wend my way to work to pick up my car as well. Even earlier morning... grumble).

As if that isn't bad enough, it's one of those light migraines. You can sit in a darkened, silent room and after an hour it fades to being merely painful and you can get on with things - until you turn on a light then it's RED HOT KNITTING NEEDLE THROUGH THE OPTIC NERVE TO THE BRAAAAIN! So you turn of the light, whimpering, and it fades.

This means that, rather than laying on a bed whimpering in pain and agony, you lay on the bed, in discomfort and being bored rigid thinking of all the things you could be doing if you could move/turn on a light. And it's somehow worse (of course, it's only worse from the perspective of the bored and discomforted, turn on a light and I think I'd probably take the boredom, yes yes I would.)

Normally I don't get these damn things in winter, they're a summer blight with all that nasty excess sunshine following lack of decent sleep. Guess it's the sleep thing, again. Damn it, who has time to do this sleeping thing anyway?!

I am now in the latter stages. This involves it fading to discomfort and my being able to function in sorta-low light which means, of course, I will do silly things like read (and use a bright computer screen to blog and whine! Hi guys!) until it flares up again. Because I am SENSIBLE like that.

Belovd is, of course, only mildly sympathetic. He keeps saying blasphemous things like "wow, you mean four hours of sleep a night for several nights isn't good? Who would have thought?" and "coffee does not replace sleep" I mean, really. He's insulting the holy bean there, unacceptable! Unacceptable! There should be laws about being annoyingly reasonable during people's self-inflicted suffering
sparkindarkness: (STD)

Follow ups didn’t work as well as they might.  I mean it got to roughly where I want it to be but it was a hell of a lot more fily effort than it should have been Senior partners, I am disappointed I really am. You need to do better than this shit, you really do. It should not have taken this much arguing for you to get a clue.

I suppose it’s something that you did get a clue. And apologise after you said Shit I’m Going to Pretend you Didn’t. Maybe there’s hope. Now, hold on to theose clues and I won’t feel the need to reach for the cluebat again

Also, bruises hurt the second day. The whole right side of my face is fugly

I’m going to put today back in the box and demand a replacement

sparkindarkness: (STD)

Yes yes, we’re all very impressed by your work ethic. Here you are, dying of advanced Tapir flu and still you came into our office to see my colleague.

No, no contagious disease is going to stop you. We are in awe that, even while clearly dying horribly and messily (and oozily) you still managed to soldier on. Yes, you brave soul, fight on.

Yes, we marvelled as you coughed onto every flat surface, sneezed in our faces , ensured every flat surface was covered with a liberal coating of your phlegm and then waved your hanky around to ensure an even spread of germs (you only used that damn thing occasionally – but what was with the shaking? It was like you were shaking out a duster. Why do this? Why why?)

I suppose we should thank you, because no doubt you have now given us all the opportunity to prove our dedicated fortitude as well. Right during our busy period. Thanks for that

You’re just lucky you didn’t encounter Most-Senior-Partner, who has been known to have contagious employees bodily removed from the premises. He is not amused by germ spreading badness

And you know what’s worse? Some people are forced to work when sick because of arsehole bosses, people who take the piss and exploit and general necessity. I know my dad’s job has a ridiculous policy where they have a common bonus as part of their weekly wage but they lose it for 5 days if they take a day off sick. Yeah, never mind he’s had 3 sick days in 35 years working for them, no discretion, he loses it.

But you? No. You’re high level, we know you have a flexible work schedule and a decent boss and decent conditions – we wrote your employment contract and know your boss and work place. We also know this isn’t urgent because Colleague ranted at length after you left and tried to disinfect her office (she is Not Amused). You weren’t forced to take your germs on holiday, but chose to do so.

sparkindarkness: (STD)

So uncle Fool, brother of uncle Fail came round to talk at me (yes, word choice is deliberate).

It seems he can’t get through on the phone – it’s almost like I’m call screening, as if I don’t want to speak to him…

…no?! Imagine that!

He wanted to talk about Uncle Fail and I made it clear that no, I did not. And if he wanted to he could leave because I refused. So he kept on talking and I kept on saying “I’ve already said all I need to.” It’s much easier when they’re on the phone, you can hang up on him. I haven’t quite reached the point of manhandling my relatives out of the room yet – but, frankly, I’m beginning to think I should.

After 15 minutes of me sat in silence, refusing to talk, glaring at him and he KEEPS TALKING I went and got a book. Subtle, right? Well, I’m kind of done being polite to people who have zero manners – and since I had (verbally at least) kicked him out of my house and he refused to leave, I think he gets off lightly with me just pretending he isn’t there.
And then he pointed out that cousin G, and I quote “is very happy the way she lives and she’s a lesbian.” And he wishes I could be happy like that.

Oh, sigh.

See, G is married to a man and has 2 wonderful children. She is not a lesbian and has never identified as such. She’s bisexual, with a very strong preference for men. And, yes, she is deliriously happy in the life she leads and has said she’d never have it any other way.

I’m not bisexual. Not even a teeny, tiny, itty bitty bit. Not one astronomically small, infinitesimally minute iota. I’m not even remotely attracted to women, have never been attracted to any woman I have ever seen, have never had sex with a woman, have never wanted to and have never touched a woman in a sexual way. It is so completely and totally not me. So, no, I could not now or ever live like cousin G.

And, besides which, I AM married. I don’t want someone else – male or female (alright, if you can get me David Tenant nekked and on my bed?Well, I’d share with Beloved, I promise). I cannot even begin to imagine how anyone could think it’s ok to say to someone that they’d be happier with someone else other than their spouse (unless, of course, we’re talking an abusive situation).

And I am happy. Ok, no, I’m not at the moment. I’m in several kinds of nasty do-not-want-ness. But in general life, mental wolverines aside? Yes, I’m happy, content and fulfilled – a million more times more than I would be without Beloved. I can’t imagine what I would be like if I hadn’t met him – no, wait, I can – and it’s a frightening frightening thought because I am horrendously aware of how deeply messed up I was. Beloved has kept my body and soul together – and I mean that in a literal sense. To say I’d be happier without him – to say nothing about the fact I’d suddenly have to turn bisexual or straight – is… I actually don’t know what it is. “Insult” is just too damn mild a word for this. It’s outrageous, it’s intolerable.

So… yeah guess what I did? That’s right, I just told another uncle what I thought of him in undiplomatic terms. Ok,not as bad as before as we don’t have the same history of antagonism, but I didn’t tread nicely either.

I’m beginning to think I’m in some kind of ridiculous fairy tale. “The First Uncle came, but he was a Raging Bigot and went home with his ears on fire. And then the Second Uncle came, but he was a clueless fool, and left with his empty head echoing…”

Thankfully, my mother’s remaining sibling is several times better than his older brothers, so maybe we can avoid the third instalment of this tale.

And, oh the family is going to be pissed at this one. I may change my answer-phone message “if you’re a relative calling to defend the homophobic actions of my uncles, please scream several obscenities at a mirror, it will save me time.”

sparkindarkness: (STD)

Rather completely from twitter, email and LJ et al. Put this down to Point 6 on the Sparky self-destruction cycle. Not exactly surprisingly, Spirit Day, while wonderful and heartening, wasn’t something I could deal with and after turning my twit-pic purple and taking one look at my twitter feed my brain went *schlup* and I stepped away from the computer. I stepped back, schlupped again and crawled away and into a big friendly bottle (mental note: Alcohol response to Triggers? BAD bad bad habit, must be stopping that. That’s certainly borrowing problems for the future)

Read more... )
sparkindarkness: (STD)

So Sparky continues to quest of putting the Sparky brain back into vaguely useful functioning

Part of this involves, for the first time ever, of me breaking the Sparky Trigger Cycle.

It’s a special fail cycle I have trod so often when I am triggered:

  1. Triggering begins. Sparky ignores triggering. Keeps pushing, pretending nothing’s wrong
  2. Triggering is rising up. Sparky goes from “ignoring” to “deliberately poking to prove he can handle it”
  3. Sparky cannot handle it. Has the screaming meemies, a burn out and general badness.
  4. Sparky retreats into shell of the meemies. Shoves all the badness into a big dark hole while avoiding the whole world
  5. Self-anger kicks in – how weak, how pathetic, you’re just giving in! Seriously embarrassing
  6. On the back of anger dives back into the fray. Only now it’s like jumping into a firefight after stripping naked and painting big targets over vulnerable areas.
  7. The Meemies come back with a vengeance
  9. Keeps coming back early despite boom – rinse repeat until enough is hammered down and (usually) the particular trigger has gone.

This is a cycle of failness. Because it is foolish. It doesn’t cure anything, it’s self-destructive. It repeatedly involves jumping into the water with lead boots on, getting out, breaking your legs, then jumping in again with heavier boots.

It’s amazing it’s lasted as long as it has and the reason it hasn’t lasted now is because I had multiple badnesses from multiple sources which were already prolonged, was already exhausted and worn out from work (physically and emotionally), was hurting and exhausted from the marble stairs plummet, and then had one of my most major of major triggers leap out at me and keep coming back – and its still ongoing. Things have not been going smoothly since August.

So my constant, “collapse, back off, and dive back in” didn’t work because it relies on the piranhas having died/turned into a new threat like crocodiles or at least backed off a little. Not that it ever really “worked” per se.

Which is why I have been such a mess lately and it hasn’t bounced back. But there is a plus side – I have actually been forced to acknowledge that, yes, there is an issue here.

And I’ve said that repeatedly and I know it seems like pretty empty “progress” but it really is. As from the self-anger mentioned above and how I have mentioned in the pass – I do not accept the idea that the Sparky brain could have the mentla issues (oooh distancing language, switched to the third person. Don’t think I can’t spot my tricks!). Which is, of course, a whole great big lump of of stinking ableist prejudice. Sure I’d accept anyone else could have triggers, issues, mental fragility? Sure I’ll stand and roar at the very idea that they’re wrong to be hurt and to need help. But let the idea that I may have issues and we’re in “how very dare you? Of course not! Not me! I’m too strong for that!” Yeah, no. Badness there. Definite badness

So yeah, having an “I am Sparky, and I have some problems” is a step. What is a bigger step is “I am Sparky, I have some problems and I need to fix them and I need help to do it.” Isn’t a step – it’s a huge great human canon ball of a leap over pits filled with fire and acid and rabid lemurs.

As to how I’m going to sort all this… well. Yeah, not sure. Admitting there’s a problem is the first step, but there are like more steps after that? Apparently? Damn. Can I do the first step again please? I think I can handle that one.

Bah, I have a friend who probably knows more about all this than me and she’s coming down and we’re having a long talk of things that aren’t issues honest but may touch on them in a lets-not-freak-out-Sparky fashion.
And I’m having lots of talking and hugs with Beloved. He generally thinks I just need to drag it all out in a great big gloopy mess, which I think yeah but also, well, then what? Because being dragged out isn’t a guarantee that the ugly will then go away, it’ll just not be pushed out of the way.
Still that is the Not!plan. Primarily it revolves around Not Making Things Worse and Not Ignoring Things and Hoping They Go Away. And lots of talking and poking and schmoopy comforty stuff. Or less schmoopy comforty stuff and more kinky fun stuff, which is also good.

sparkindarkness: (STD)

Currently I have family drama which, as said, pretty much has added to my general angsting state to create Sparky the emotional basket case on the edge of losing it and Beloved the Extremely Worried.

My mother’s eldest brother and I have never had a good relationship. He’s a Tory through and through, I’m not. He is contemptuous of anything remotely smacking of social justice, largely turning victim blaming to a high art, he loathes welfare, the NHS and progressive taxation, venerates the church and charity despite being involved in neither and generally believes that I will come to my senses and see how very right he is one day *eye roll.* He also hates the fact that his oh-so-Tory son is, in his eyes, failing compared to me (i.e. I earn more. Yes, in his eyes this is what a person is worth) and has repeatedly expressed his vehement disagreement with my legal specialties, believing I should have gone it the more lucrative (and infinitely more boring) business law. And my pro-bono work is “unbelievable” a comment that, frankly defies explanation.

As can be guessed, we cannot have any kind of conversation without a strained argument at best.

He never really makes an effort to hide his distaste for me, which, heh fine, because I’m not expending the same effort back. But he also makes zero effort to hide his distaste for my sexuality either – which is considerably less fine.

And another cut to avoid reams of my endless angst

Read more... )
sparkindarkness: (STD)

That pretty much sums up my mental state at the moment

Have you ever walked on a frozen lake? Well, if you have you’ve done something I haven’t (it’s WATER guys, unless you have a messianic complex it’s not for walking on. BAD idea. BAD!). Anyway, pretend for a second I have and know exactly what it feels like.

Well, I feel like that ice as just cracked and there are lots and lots and lots of little cracks under my feet. And not so little cracks. And more cracks keep coming.

Cut for more epic whining Read more... )
sparkindarkness: (STD)

Emails I received today (a day which is a bank holiday for most of the nation I’m told)

Email #1 from SP#2: Admonished me for the hours I have logged – she reminds me pointedly that such persistent long hours  cause tiredness that is likely to lead to mistakes and may end up with the firm being liable. I need to be aware of the problems that could arise (because I totally didn’t realise, thank you) and she would advise that I check my caseload for the last week to see if I may have overlooked anything in

SP #2, if I had the time to check my case load from a week in which I logged up to and possibly over 90 hours then I wouldn’t actually be working such hours.

Email #2 from SP#1: Reminding me of one of Randomness Colleague’s files that by his calendar hassome deadlines arising and I am needed to have a look at this case I’m not even remotely familiar with before things time out

I know about this file. It was one of her files that I did NOT take over and, at the time when I took on far too many of her files already,

Email #3 from Colleague: letting me know that she can’t actually work today as she had told me on Friday because her husband is taking her out to dinner (yeah, so was mine but I had to work), but she cleared it with SP #1. Could I please do X, Y and Z for her and she’ll see me Tuesday

Email #4 from Guardians: letting me know of 3 appointments today, 1 of which is a new cases they were told to refer to me, 1 from a colleague who has other plans today but told the Guardians that I’d handle it (didn’t think to mention it to me though, did you?!)

Email #5 from SP#3: scheduling has fallen off, he needs me to be on call tonight, thank you so much, knew he could rely on me. Oh and he’s away from his keyboard and phone all day so won’t receive any messages until tomorrow. Thanks! You’re a star.

Yeah, I’m going to go nova any minute.

My Email back to SP#2: Please find all the emails attached. Can you file them because I may one day need them in my defence, my insanity plea and/or to make people eat them. I would tell you this in person but I appear to be one of only 2 Associates+ in the office today – and he’s already left early.

Oh and no-one bothered to leave the keys to the vault but I “shouldn’t need it.” Yeah… guess what I needed today? And no, little Trainee, I can’t get in “some other way.” It’s called a vault for a reason.  And while we’re on the subject – why did no-one tell Trainee she didn’t have to come in today?

sparkindarkness: (STD)

While I’ve been indisposed it seems that most of what should have been done… hasn’t been. I can’t say I’m best pleased with my colleagues who neither picked up any of the slack I left (even though, knowing this would be a problem I didn‘t actually use the sick note I have and instead used it to request a little more flexibility), nor any of the slack I was already picking up of previous colleague who had had a randomness happen to them and is still, apparently, being randomnessed. Nor am I particularly happy with the Senior Partners for not recognising the build up and getting in some help. (I’m also pretty sure he has insurance for sick peons so there’s no real excuse)

Nor, it seems, has anyone had the sense to realise taking on new cases at this time was a bad idea. I am particularly Not Amused by the number of cases where someone has taken the preliminary steps on a case that was apparently fully intended to be dumped into my already rather full lap. Especially when those “preliminary steps” have been done in an extremely slipshod manner, to my way of thinking.

It vexes me further that many of these cases require further travelling throughout half of damn Yorkshire (and one case is based in Lincolnshire, would you believe?! I’m sure they eat people south of the river. It is Known. Besides which it‘s flat and boring and nigh impossible to navigate) as well as frequent out of hours work required. And wouldn’t you know it that just about everyone has excuses why they couldn’t possibly do such – interesting how my desire to actually have a social and family life are valued less here, I am becoming increasingly Not Amused on that front.

So for rather too long now I have been getting up ridiculously early and working to ridiculously late and then taking work home with me and/or going out travelling/being on call. It’s annoying and frazzling, I’ve hardly seen Beloved and here I am, on Saturday, doing the same damn thing again.

I’m getting into a rhythm of it now, which is a problem. I feel like I’m being dragged by inertia. That could be lack of sleep, but I’m kid of just drifting from task to task to task. And I’m losing weight from skipping meals again… usually when I go without sleep or proper food my immune system goes on strike which is all I need

Worse thing is that I feel like I’m not making any headway – which means more work is being dumped on faster than I can clear it.

No, the utterly worst thing is that I’m the only one doing this and I’m getting sorely tired of this. I’m tired of being the reliable one, I’m tired of being the one who puts up with the shittiest jobs and I am beyond tired of being the one who is expected to cancel his social and family life constantly and for long periods.

And I’m tired of not only being expected to do this, but not even remotely having it acknowledged that I am doing it – and that no-one else is. Particularly I am beyond sick of it being treated not like I am going above and beyond the call of duty when I put in 14 hour days time and time again, or am on call all night then back in the office for 7:00am, or have agreed to travel to damn Manchester or Cambridge or London at a moment’s notice – but that it’s treated like I’m being unreasonably stubborn, awkward and lazy for protesting any of this.

Add in that the whole way firm is handling this and speaking to me is rapidly destroying my respect for Most Senior Partner and he’s rapidly getting on my last nerve, I’m beginning to avoid him more and more just to prevent him saying something to me that will further increase the growing rift.

Beloved thinks I need to sit down and have a nice clam confrontation. I’m inclined to think it sounds nice on paper but won’t work out well – my nerves are on edge and my temper is rumbling and I have a feeling that any such conversation has a good chance of reducing my respect for him to critically low levels, having my temper snap into a wonderfully creative but ultimately unproductive string of expletives or him saying something that I can neither forgive nor forget.

Screw it, I’m going home now, I’m turning my phone off and it’s staying off all day tomorrow too. I’m going to spend some time with Beloved because I don’t think we’ve spent 5 minutes together for days and I’m going to write some tetchy emails.

I may also eat a full cake. Because.

sparkindarkness: (STD)

I was TOTALLY right.
See, in addition to broken bones, bruises and general owieness that are making my life several kinds of annoying (how long is this supposed to last anyway? Heal already!) And work doing some crappy things that are really hacking me off (more on that later) there is mooooore.

My leg, hurting from the fall, has decided to swell up, turn bright red, covered in nasty spots and feel like the skin is as tight as a drum head. It is also veyr very very sore – even more sore than the rest of me. It feels like an excrutiatingly bad sunburn. If said sunburn were then covered in acid. That kind of sore. And it doesn’t like me moving, no no it does not. It is also hot – not warm – hot to the touch. Somewhat worrisome.

So I made a doctor’s appointment to see secy doctor and be all stubborn because I hate pills.

Sexy Doctor finds my leg interesting and odd and to be a bad infection, he’s amazed I don’t feel like crap (or crapper than my battered state would suggest) but seems to be relatively confident that I have that to look forward to if the antibiotics don’t kick in soon (he seemed positively gleeful at the prospect. I told him his bedside manner sucked, he pointed out I wasn’t in a bed. I said unfortunatey and Beloved told me not to flirt with the doc. I’m not allowed to have any fun)

So now I am taking 500mg of Flucloxacillin 4 times a day and looking out for more symptoms of nastiness. I bet they have nasty side effects, oh yes.

*sulks* This is not a good month

sparkindarkness: (STD)

Y’know, in theory being quasi-ambidextrous-ish would mean that breaking your left wrist wouldn’t be too much of a problem, right? But noooo, I’m too damn used to using my left hand for so much (brains OUT of the gutter. And yes, you were thinking it), even with it being my non-dominant hand, that everything is a nuisance.

Especially typing. Oh typing is getting very very frustrating. AND buggering up my right wrist as well. *grump grump grump*

And there’s a lot around the house I can’t do. Which is kinda fine because I don’t particularly want to do any of it. Because I am lazy and sensible. Right, now can someone tell my brain that?

Silly Brain: hmmm the coving around the edge of the room needs cleaning. We should stand on chair on one leg and clean it one handed
Sensible Brain: What?! NO! Do you want to land us in hospital again?
Silly Brain: but but but THE COVING!
Sensible Brain. No.
Silly Brain: Fine, we’ll take the bin out instead.
Sensible Brain: But but but we hate taking the bin out. We fight tooth and nail to make Beloved take the bin out every time. Now you want to take it out when you have a perfect excuse to make him do it?
Silly Brain: Those windows look dirty… where’s the ladder?
Sensible Brain: *sigh*

My brain is awkward for the sake of awkwardness sometimes. Of course it would help a lot more if Beloved didn’t make me want to test if I could strangle him with one hand. Like with the dishwasher. No the dishwasher hasn’t shrunk – but you can actually put more than the front row of dishes in if you’ll pull the trays OUT. stop filling the front row and declaring it full *grumble*

It may not be guessed, but when sick, injured or otherwise indisposed, I gets cranky I does. It does not help that beloved likes to poke and annoy the sick – and throw things and run away when I can’t chase him or throw things back properly. It is unfair, yes yes it is.

Of course I can take some glee watching him maraud around the garden in his war against the malicious and pernicious Cabbage White Butterfly.

We’ve been lucky enough that his veggies have largely been pest free all year – but now the butterflies are swooping in like slightly dazed bombers. I think I should be concerned by how paranoid he has become – while other people watch television he sits and monitors the garden for the dreaded fluttery white butterflies.

Also, it appears that the funeral customs of the Cabbage White Butterfly involve inviting every other butterfly in a 50 mile radius, much to Beloved’s distress *watches with amusement*.

He is also training the cat to hunt butterflies. She is training him not to bother trying to make a sleepy cat do anything but sleep. She has mastered the art of sleeping while being brandished at butterflies.

sparkindarkness: (STD)

And, yes, I realise I may be jumping the gun saying this on the 2nd. But I have decided. For unless gorgeous men wearing nothing but body glitter descend from the heavens handing me several tons of exquisitely cut diamonds and ownership rights for every coffee plantation in the world there is little chance of this month redeeming itself.

*checks sky* No? Ok then.

So, work is still up to my eyeballs so I have been hurrying. hurry hurry hurry. But one place you don’t hurry is on stone/tile/whatever floors while wearing slick dress shoes (honestly – is there a reason why dress shoes can’t have a decent tread to them?). And even more importantly, do not do said hurrying on stone/tile/whatever floors wearing slick dress shoes at the top of a very tall flight of stairs.

There follows an, admittedly, extremely rapid descent of said staircase, however time spent on the descent was then lost by the laying on my back swearing loudly. That is not a productive use of my time.

It is even more a waste of my time when i try to get up and body declares “oh hell no, that’s not happening!” Ankle and wrist particularly wish it to be known that they are not happy with the situation and are making their not happiness clear in no uncertain terms.

Then the first aider swooped in. you know they’re a first aider because they get to poke you and ask “does this hurt” you say “Yes it bloody does!” and then they do it AGAIN! And you’re NOT ALLOWED to slap them! It hurt the previous 4 times you tried to move my wrist and ankle, why do you have to go in for a 5th attempt? Do you think I’m lying or something?

Then they drag me to a hospital that takes aeons of time, all the while I am swearing at body parts that don’t like me any more and muttering because all of me feels like I just fell down a… oh wait. Anyway the nice doctor comes around and he keeps poking me as well but I try not to slap him for he is CUTE and cute doctors are Allowed. He did keep making lawyer jokes about me suing people though, however in the waiting room I thought of 4 good innuendos and at least 8 porn plots involving me suing him so, hey, I suppose that worked out ok (this is your brain on endorphins kiddies).

Apparently I have broken my left wrist. This is… inconvenient and vexing. No amount of bullying would convince the doctor that my wrist was magically unbroken, nor would he believe that I was simply too busy to have a broken wrist and could we instead schedule it for some time next month. Doctors are unreasonable, yes yes they are. My ankle, however, is just sprained. Whatever that means. Exactly what is a sprain? Is sprain a medical term for “hurts like medieval torture?” because it hurts a damn site more than the wrist. Hobbling around on it is possible but apparently unadvised.

But it does mean I’ve lost most of the damn day. I couldn’t even do paperwork in the waiting room. which means the “up to my eyes in work” situation has now reached critical levels. I didn’t need sleep anyway.

I did get to see Senior Partner nearly explode when he realised another one of his peons would be unavailable – and his intense relief when I declared that i appeared to be still functional. Exploding Senior Partners are funny. Yes yes they are.

And no, I’m not suing anyone. I can’t sue my own feet for tripping over themselves, I can’t sue myself for wearing silly shoes, I can’t sue myself for hurrying at the top of a stair case with my hands full. It is galling in the extreme to find you have no-one to blame for your misfortune than your own fool self (give me a week, I’ll have it all blamed on Beloved). I own my own mistakes – though I will whine about them.

Lots of whining. Oh yes.

sparkindarkness: (Default)
Well, last week was a week of badness. Between police station lurking, clients in every damn corner of the county, Beloved turning my garden into the dark side of the moon, and the Senior Partners deciding to run interviews at times that no reasonable clock would even show because it's ASLEEP, damn it - and then the clocks being extra silly (bad clocks) and stealing an HOUR of my sleep (daylight savings is PROOF of dark infernal forces, damn it) in all I got about 2 minutes 30 seconds sleep last week.

And I didn't get to catch up on the weekend, even though I fell asleep at the keyboard. This is usually a bad sign. To make it worse, I now have a damn cold that is getting steadily more oozy and horrible.

So I am wearing my grumpy face. The SPs have twice tried to give me work that would steal more sleep - threats of violence words were exchanged. I'm currently playing catch up, dealing with the ooziness and I have a headache that feels like a rhino is dancing a Samba over my temples.

Yes, I am whiney today.
sparkindarkness: (Default)
I went to meet a client today. In Bradford. I left at 12:10. I got back.. 30 minutes ago. 11:00.

This pleases me not.

Dear Senior Partners - ENOUGH, damn it. There is more than enough business within this city without you trolling for work across the whole damn county. Why are you doing this? I'm already handling more cases than I should be doing - and I'm not alone. Taking on another local case would be dubious - but taking on one in Bradford? Do they not have lawyers in Bradford? We are not a huge firm, it's nice that we're building connections and reputations elsewhere but is there actually a purpose to it?

And do you think any of YOUR august selves might traipse around the county once in a great while? And while we're on the subject - this lovey-dovey "Our lawyers can meet you at your convenience" to help clients who may need to meet during business hours? That can go too - we already are on call for police station attendence at any hour of the day or night - when do you intend us to sleep? And, again, I notice you're not the ones attenting 5:30am meetings. I can't coherently identify my own FEET at that time in a morning! You expect me to interview clients? Because at the moment anyone asking for a divorce is going to be handed an alibi, an axe and a map of convenient body disposal spots while I catch up on my sleep.

Dear various county councils - was it REALLY necessary to dig up EVERY road in Yorkshire today? Really? And what bright spark decided to not only dig up a major artery requiring a diversion but THEN to dig up the DIVERSION road?! Did you do it on purpose? Do you have some kind of daemonic pact that requires you to cause human misery?

Dear Sat Nav: *BING* I *BING* know *BING I *BING* am *BING* speeding *BING* it's *BING* a *BING* motorway *BING* no-one *BING* cares. *BING* Shut *BING* Up. *BING*

Also *BING* the *BING* speed *BING* limit *BING* there *BING* is *BING* 40mph *BING* I *BING* am *BING* doing *BING* 30 *BING* SO WHY ARE YOU STILL BEEPING AT ME?!

Dear NHS: I am so not in the mood for you to spam every radio advert break with your warnings that the bloodbanks are low - when you stop turning away perfectly good donors because of mindless prejudice, I'll believe that we have a crisis.

Dear solitors advertising on the radio: you make me ashamed of my profession.

Sparky is also ravenously hungry (and the Sparky Ferret metabolism does not appreciate missed meals) because the only thing I've eaten all day is a spicy-alleged-chicken wrap from a petrol station. What muck is this? Has it even seen a chicken? There are more chemicals in the sandwich than in the fuel I put in my car! Isn't it false advertising to even call this thing food? And it must be breaking laws not to have hazardous waste signs plastered on the packaging that is only faintly more platicky than the actual contents. If my body is a temple then eating this is an act of desecration on par with snorting crack off a prostitutes body while laid on the altar.

Yes. I am wearing my grumpy face.
sparkindarkness: (Default)
Say, just for example you have a minor bad habit.

Like never ever wearing shoes and, as a consequence, you get massively thick layers of hard skin on the soles of your feet that would probably let you walk on broken glass.

And say, just hypothetically, that your significant other, who loves you dearly, advises you against that bad habit or a bad thing will happen

Like telling you to wear shoes occassionally. Or at least chisseling off some of the hard skin occasionally. Or it will split and be painful.

And say, again, for the sake of argument, you completely ignore that advice and the bad thing happens.

Like said skin splitting across your heel and ball of your foot that feels like someone is stabbing your feet when you put any pressure on them

Then, as a loving and considerate significant other, your other half is required to be kind and sympathetic and not allowed to say "I told you so" at all. Right? Right?

I knew you'd agree with me.

Beloved is soooo unfair
sparkindarkness: (Default)
I continue to be miserable. I am off work. Mainly because Beloved informed them that I was carrying the snuffly badness. I have a an answer machine full of threats of dire consequences from the Senior Partners should I even think of dragging my diseased carcass anywhere near their premises

After work yesterday Mad Secretary came to my house, posted quarantine signage and threw water balloons at me when I tried to come out and speak to her. I am quite cold water in October is not recommended treatment for Tapir flu.

Ironically, I can merrily stay inside every day of my life. I am, at heart, a hermit. I like hermiting. Herming. Hmmm.. Anyway, I like being alone and inside, especially in autumn and winter. But now I have considerable forces threatening me with life, limb and cold water should I try to leave the house I suddenly have a strong desire to go out and do things.

Irrational brain is irrational. Y’see. I blame the Tapirs.
sparkindarkness: (Default)
Beloved has, in his normal sensible reaction to illness, had a small paranoid fit and is now running around assuming the germs in my body can lay low an entire continent.

This is vexing.

Worse, the NHS, in a move that I suppose is reassuring but manages to be silly at the same time has put up a nice internet questionnaire to see if people have the dreaded piggy sniffles.

You can see where this is going can't you? Yes, Beloved is convinced I have piggy sniffles and has been given a nice 2 million digit number to take to a distribution point 3 minutes away to get some anti-virals - because the questionnaire is convinced as well.

Hmmm. I'd take this more seriously if it didn't have sections like:

Does the patient have any TWO of these conditions. Then list "cough" and "snuffed nose." Yes. The patient DOES have TWO of those conditions because he has a COLD. Ok, I had 5-6 of those symptoms but they're ALL classic cold/flu symptoms. Headache, joint ache, fever, sickness - yup that be a cold it be. I think it's silly to think you can diagnose Swine Flu as opposed to ANY OTHER strain of flu or cold based on vague internet questions

I could have bird flu. Did they think about that? Hells, I could have the dreaded tapir flu (I like tarpirs. And the baby ones are like kinds of cute and have snuffly noses.) if this flu kills me, I want that on my gravestone "Tapir Flu's first victim! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA" And don't skimp on the "ha" in the MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA (see, I can be melodramatic too! :P)

And now my persistent ear infection is coming back. Bloody cold. Grrrrrr.
sparkindarkness: (Default)
that can compare with the scourge of...


I am afflicted. So low have I been brought that lepers weep in pity for me. The shades of those who have fallen to the black death swirl around my bedside gasping a wailing at the suffering I must endure. Truly no-one in the history of mankind has ever suffered so poignlently, has ever endured so gracefully or has ever stoicly withstood such horrendous affliction

However, I am comforted by the knowledge that I rest in the warm and tender affections of my loving partner in this time of trial

Beloved: AARGH you're SICK?! Get away! Get away! *runs to bathroom and starts scrubbing* UNCLEAN UNCLEAN! Stay away from me! Take the sheets out into the garden and burn them! Without touching anything!

Really, in the face of such overhwelmingly sympathetic love and support, what am I to do?

Clearly, I must work on being more pitiful *practices feeble groan* getting better, just need a little more failty.
sparkindarkness: (Default)
So, I have been absent for far too long, so a summary of the issues that have been keeping me all over the place - beware length and much bitching

And while we're at it a fervent request for 2009 now, please. I don't like this year. Can we have 2009 now, please?

This year is now 10 days old and so far I am not at all happy about it. I hate this, I hate months or years that start badly - it makes me all irrational and omen-hunty expecting the nasty nasty nasty bad things to happen.

Read more... )

All unpleasant but not too bad things, but I'm feeling worse than they justify really. I think it's because there is just a lot of crap and I'm feeling manky and have no energy and I look crap (I KNOW I've lost weight and muscle tone) and am generally feeling fragile. I want to call kings on life, I need some time to get some of my stuff together but something new keeps looming and I can't keep up. It's making me all kinds of depressed and listless (which isn't helping).

Still, when things get better I'll appreciate them all the more


sparkindarkness: (Default)

April 2015

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