Done This Week

A day late and...not at all short? How is it possible that I feel this terrible but still get everything done? I'm almost annoyed by that. Mostly because it means I am not taking it any easier than I normally do, despite how I feel. *looks at number of plants repotted* How am I doing MORE than usual when I feel like death? Why am I so bad at resting???

Lewisia: 3 new pieces written

Gratitude journaling: 35 new entries

Tumblr queue: 35 posts added

Day job: 42 hours

Gardening: lots of repotting succulents, weeding the flower garden, picking pumpkins

Reading: signed up for Libro.fm, started listening to Sabriel

Today's Keyboard Smash

I--???? I definitely posted on Friday to say I was taking the weekend off. I know I did this thing. The browser tried to give me shit about it, so I made particularly sure the post actually went through. The post...does not exist. Is not there.

????????

Right, so, sorry for disappearing without saying anything, a choice I did not actually make in this reality tunnel. Okay. Cool. *hands*

I'm jumping through a bunch of hoops for my work insurance this week. Technically, they've made this optional because of the pandemic and the resulting difficulties in seeing doctors. I am attempting to do it anyway because I'm already scheduled to see the doctor and I can get money back if I do this shit anyway. It's paperwork, and an online quiz*, and bloodwork. And I hate everything about it, but by god, I have spent many hours of my holiday being a Responsible Adult.

I'm going to have to convince my doctor to check my B12 levels. thebibliosphere, who blogs about writing/editing, vampires, and chronic illness, has described her experience with chronic fatigue that turned out to be pernicious anemia. And whoops, it sounds alarmingly familiar. I don't know how well this is going to go over. Am I a good enough crip, who has done penance for their sins by losing weight, to deserve adequate medical care?

*This quiz purports to tell me my "real" age, as compared to my chronological age, based on my answers about my Lifestyle Choices (tm). (It's my BMI. Don't lie, you assholes. You're basing a huge amount of this ~score~ on my BMI, which you insist on billing as a good and useful metric of individual health, despite its many flaws and inherent unsuitability for this task it wasn't designed to do.) I am put in mind intensely of the Quizilla quizzes for exactly this subject, among so many others. This would amuse me if it didn't involve an automated invasion of my privacy and a subsequent shaming of me and docking of points for not being healthy enough. I--I have too many opinions about this to fit in a footnote, but not enough fucks to turn it into a full post right now. tl; dr, fuck this shit.

Lake Lewisia #578

This Labor Day, we thank all those whose work makes life possible in our town. From the waitress in Mulaney's serving up hash browns and eggs--the librarian restitching the binding on an injured feral book--the parent explaining to their child why bees are good--the child laying offerings out for the yellow-eyed things living behind the garden shed--to the staff turning our scribblings into community bulletin postings: every one of you create our town anew each day. We remember, this day and always, that all work has value, and every worker deserves the support that lets them rest.

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LL#578