I’ve been pottering around this morning trying to find various parcels that couldn’t be delivered to us this week – with a roughly fifty percent success rate – and dropping in to one of my libraries to catch up with some newer staff I’ve not seen in a while.
If that all sounds exhausting, well maybe a bit of an exertion was involved, but I’ve since heard back from royal mail that they’ve found the last of the missing items, and have had another thing delivered since then so I’m letting go of the low-grade grumpiness and settling with a cuppa.
I’ve just had a notification that my present for my mum for mother’s day has been delivered, the sun is sort of out, and in the carpark outside my kitchen window a guy is teaching his girlfriend how to use a skateboard, and they are lots of grins – it’s very sweet.
That’s my first week back at work, and my legs are very aware I’ve been on my feet for most of it. It’s been good to reconnect with staff and public alike, and it has been a chance to encourage new creativity for displays.
We’ve got Mother’s Day here in the UK on Sunday, and Shakespeare Week to follow, so my main role today was to support, encourage and stir the pot, while my staff turned their attention to working out how to use Publisher. There may even have been investigations into the intricacies of printer layout settings and margins.
I love watching people’s faces as they work out new things, especially creative things. There’s often a great dawning joy and satisfaction that overtakes their features and its hugely rewarding to be part of that process.
That said I now need to start whipping my own creativity into shape to prepare for Sunday’s game. I have no idea what I’m going to set up.
We have a restructure coming up at work, and as I worked on my personal statement and cv for applying essentially for my own job I was concerned. My imposter fears sprung up at every turn. Today, however, we had a managers get together and it seems that not only am I not the only one with those fears, but I am the only person to have pressed through and actually completed it so far.
So maybe it’s not so bad.
This then sent my brain on to all sorts of tangents that will no doubt make my partners laugh – about how I’m a dreadful flirt, both in the sense of being quietly flirty all the time, but also in the sense of being really bad it. Not for nothing am I renowned for being utterly oblivious.
About this time nine years ago I finally arrived at a budget hotel and was greeted by my very drunk extended family. I had been driven up by a friend in a convoy of SMART cars that were loaded to the gunnels with cakes that Lady M-to-be had finished baking and decorating just that morning.
I was exhausted, not in a great mood because my sugars were low and I was nervous about the day to come.
And yet, here I am still, remembering it all with great fondness with Lady M, and comparing notes on how my daughter was at that very moment keeping her as de-stressed as possible while also sleeping in a pull-out bed that reminded her and the other bridesmaids of a cat bed.
It was, and still is, a weird world. Let’s keep it that way
I’ve managed to get the general mess and piles of things to be recycled vs thrown out down to more manageable levels today: specifically near enough that its now needing me to set a pace to continue it rather than say “that’ll do”
Whenever I weaken I look at how much better the corner I started with is, and do some more. My reward has been to then let myself do some more drawing, or to do some prep for Sunday.
I’m not quite sure where today went, but I’m not going to punish myself for having a quiet day with everything that’s been going on.
I’ve played some Destiny, drawn and coloured another couple of maps, done some grocery shopping, and taken out the recycling- along with some other minor odds and ends. So it’s not as if I’ve been in a daze on the sofa.
Lady M continues to recover from her operation, and now sports an amazing display of spreading bruises. That said, the biggest struggle is getting her to sit still and let herself recover. Well, aside from when she cosies up on the sofa and suddenly there are gentle snores.
It’s not dramatic or draining in any traditional sense, but I am aware that I’m always keeping half an eye out to keep her fed, watered, and comfortable, so I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m feeling a bit flat. This won’t last long. Normality will return.
I was rather pleased with being able to get a simple but effective display up in one of my libraries marking LGBT+ History Month. I was even more pleased at the positive feedback from staff and public. Even more so that it has inspired at least one more colleague to start their own.
Today I was informed by a member of staff that we had received congratulations and thanks from a member of the public for our support of the NHS.
With a waved hand towards the display.
My colleague resorted to the tried and tested nod and smile technique. We do indeed support the NHS. The multiple LGBT+ History Month signs and logos might as well have been invisible.
Life’s too short to be anything other than amused, but I may have quietly rolled my eyes at the confirmation that people just don’t read signs.
There’s a certain joy at witnessing the very visible emotional roller coasters experienced by myr s, particularly at the positive end of things.
They’re a soppy thing – and I say that with love – who wears their heart firmly on their sleeve. This occasionally turns into sobbing floods of tears in response to emotional moments on screen or in text, or in little moments in our Dungeons and Dragons game when nice or beautiful moments of wonder occur.
I wasn’t at all surprised therefore at the response they got recently when they asked on social media what people mostly recalled about them. Almost universally people responded by saying: “your laugh” – and rightly so, because a laughing myr s includes giggle snorts, full on belly laughs, and breathless chuckling. Usually all at once like an explosion of surprised joy.
File this under partner appreciation things I think…
I’ve been having the occasional comment wend it’s way to me about how positive I’m being at work, how untroubled by all the stresses around us.
Truth be told its mostly because being cheery and positive is less exhausting than brooding on everything. Yes, there’s a small amount of denial, but I choose to interpret that as actively picking my battles.
A few days ago, myr s confessed they weren’t happy that I had to go in to work and risk infection. My only answer is that I feel safe enough in my work environment, especially with the barriers, cleaning, masks, and distance enforced while there. If anything it feels safer than going to the shops, and that’s in no small part due to control of my environment that I can exercise while at work.
Semi-related to the above is the descriptive fragment that bounced around my imagination this morning: “he was so optimistic that he expected anyone coming from Woking to be woke”