Sunday, 31 January 2010

Lost in the post

Huh, there should be a blog post, right here. Various things have prevented its appearance.

Most immediately one of those baths that you can't get out of. You know what I mean, don't you? Not that the bath is so wonderful, and you are so blissfully afloat that you don't want to ever leave, but rather than something in the difference between the air and water temperature keeps you riven to the base of the bath, slightly chilly, but not as chilly as you would be if you got out. There is, of course, no more hot water to sort this quandary out. You just have to lie there until the air temperature is preferable. That kind of bath.

Earlier, there was the good old, traditional 5am panic attack. Despite the potentially anxiety inducing events of the last six months or so, I seem to have been oddly insulated from outbreaks of panic. I have been all luxe, calme et gin. But some kind of massive reality check hit me in the early hours of this morning, and suddenly and mysteriously wide awake, my brain went into meltdown in the time honoured small hours fashion. It went something like "OHMYFUCKINGGOD I have written nothing since November I barely earn enough to cover the rent the economy is down the plughole and I want to break into an industry that is teetering on the brink of total collapse why did I buy more underwear yesterday and I still don't have a valid ID card all I do is dick around on the internet all day oh god oh god oh god". It was longer and more repetitive than this but you get the general picture. It has subsided to a tight chest in the course of the day with occasional spells of vertigo. It has however kicked my ass into actually doing something about my manuscript, or 'heap of coffee stained pages'. I have finally beaten Chapter 6 into submission. Chapter 7, do not sit there looking so smug with your butter stains from my mid-afternoon crumpet mountain. I am coming for you next, even though I have absolutely no idea what you are about any more.

A long, cold - though also sunny and beautiful - walk with weepette during which at one point Oscar fell through thin ice into a freezing pond. Pauvre weepette. I have rarely seen anything look quite so cold, bedraggled and defeated. Ah, bony one, sometimes life reserves the most appalling surprises. I thought I should try and embrace dog walking as, like, a positive experience rather than something to be endured (Knee of Death, remember). So with a sexy as hell self-adhesive anti-inflammatory patch stuck to the Knee of Death, I gave it a try (along with occasional blog commenter Fran). So far so good, I have not ballooned up to pumpkin proportions and it only took about 2 hours and 4 crumpets to regain feeling in my limbs. My brain took a little longer.

So. There's no post tonight. Sorry. Here, have a mournful dog photo:

This was right before I cruelly Febrezed his chair, thereby making his day exponentially worse.


chiclit said...

Ok, no weekly summary, so will do mine>

Sunday-return late from business trip, go see elderly father hospitalized in absence with a terrible infection in eye ( herpes/shingles, don't bother to Google) but he is improving and home. I wear mask per instructions.

Cleverly take Monday morning off as comp time for trip. Am just about out the door at noon when I pick up my purse and notice a candy wrapper beside it. My dachsund has just eaten chocolate. I take dog to vet, let work know I won't be in. Vet assures me dog will likely be ok, but need to stay overnight after doggie version of stomach pumping. I feel terrible as had totally forgotten chocolate bar. Am secretly relieved to be able to go to bed early and not have to do late night and early morning dog toileting walks.

Tuesday Obama announces domestic budget freeze. I work as a government contractor. My health care has been cut this year already and now this. Yes We Can thing is not exactly working out as planned for me when I was optimistically making get out the vote calls during my layoff. Pick up Dog at Vet-250 dollars,please.

Dog is fine, and I bring favorite blanket and treats so she will think vets is a good place. Perky girl vet informs me that one tiny treat is equivalent of Snickers bar-and how many Snickers bars should we have a day- oblivious to the fact a)I am clearly a Plus Size Woman and b) and we are here because I was carrying a chocolate bar in my purse FFS! Dog is so happy to see me she pees on only remaining black trousers (haven't been to drycleaner since trip).

Wednesday, discover colleague didn't do a project, now its mine. Am now going to have to work much harder than planned this week. Confusing conversation in evening with elderly Mom who is becoming a bit addled.

Thursday, good news, a suggestion I made to bring someone in for a special event is approved, everyone is happy, including person who gets career boost. I hope she can hire me in the future when my contract ends. I struggle with online trip vouchering system that automatically pays credit card-cannot master. Am owed lots of money. Call about parking ticket received two weeks ago but disintegrated in the rain-yes they can take payment over the phone, but surprise I got two tickets that day.

Friday, sweet Friday arrives Wear jeans as no work trousers clean-still haven't been to dry cleaners. I put on ipod at work to focus on finishing my project (allowed) and cubicle mate has dizzy spells, ambulance almost called. I take off ipod and by the time I am caught up with that drama-I have to work til 6 to finish my report. Boss informs me she has spoken to contracting officer and he thinks contracts will be renewed despite budget freeze-and she tells me she praised me highly, so glad to have me etc. First positive feedback I have recieved in nine months from her. I arrive home to find that Obama has returned to form and spend three hours watching progressive MSNBC televise his asskicking of silly Republican caucus. Life is good.

Weekend: Did not go to dry cleaners. Go to Kathy Griffen show with sister. Highly recommend her vulgar gossipy comedy. We went for drinks and dinner first: to die for goat cheese fondue was consumed. The rest of the weekend: took to my bed with the dog and dicked around on the internet. Now its Sunday evening, so going at my work trousers with a damp cloth and putting them in the dryer with a couple of dryer sheets and a shot of Febreze.

Top Bird @ Wee Birdy said...

Ack, god no, not the panic. Hope the tightness eases off and you're feeling a wee bit better.

But look - chapter six! I'm impressed. Alas, I have no manuscript and no chapters, so you're waaay ahead of me.

Poor little Oscar, he's not the most fortunate of dogs, is he? xx

Anonymous said...

Sweet baby Nathan, panic attacks! I get them all the time, mine usually come at night when I should be drifting off to sleep but am instead worried about all manner of impending gloom, frosted with a generous layer of boy I really suck.

I have not found a cure or solution yet but I heard tell that there's this drug called Xanax and it renders you completely blithe and care free.

Also, regarding presidential claims in the US, I feel it's less "yes we can," and more "um, maybe we can't" for those of us in the trenches. Especially after a few panic-stricken, sleepless nights.

Laura said...

EXACTLY what Top Bird said.

Jessica said...

You are an excellent writer, and a terribly creative and resilient woman. I sincerely hope that you continue along on your way, telling the occasional panics to sod off as you do. Having suffered them myself, I know it's *much* easier said than done when they're happening, but what you are doing is absolutely interesting, and touching, and bankable. Try to remember that, buckle down to the tasks when you can, give yourself a break when you need it, and keep at it.

Anonymous said...

Ach, Emma, honey, I'm so sorry that Teh Anxiety has scythed the legs out from underneath you, which must have been particularly unpleasant considering Knee of Death. Hang in there past the vertigo: you're professionally qualified, you're talented, and you have written Six Whole Chapters. That's a good platform on which to build Impressive Things.

That poor dejected dog!

Kim@EnjoyTheRide said...

Chin up! Just the last sentence of this post made me choke on my tea, so something is working. Your life has a little of an american cable dramedy vibe to it right now and that's not necessarily a bad thing!

Anonymous said...

Again: reading you, i feel less lonely in my panic attacks. But you at least have a dog!!! Some other have Xanax...I have just Bach's Rescue Remedy. And wine.

Bloody hell, what a shit time! Good luck to all of us!

p.s. Is it stil full moon?

bevchen said...

Poor weepette.

Good luck with chapter 7.

Anne said...

Ja, this week was the hell heard 'round the world, apparently. Full moon, statistically most depressing week of the year (evidently - whoever determines these things must be lovely fun at parties), horrible wintry weather everywhere including probably the Southern Hemisphere though I can't say I've checked through my snowbound fug.

And even in all that some wonderful things happened this week (my own version of a Chapter 6, for example) and yet I'm still in a funk. What gives?

Can I Febreze my life, please?

Lisa-Marie said...

Poor Weepette! And poor you, panic attacks are fucking awful things. I prescribe tea and shortbread. Tea and shortbread fix everything.

I enjoyed your pseudo post!

Waffle said...

I should say it was only a fairly tiny panic attack. I am in contact with things that give me a HUGE dose of perspective at the moment, so mainly I think how very fucking lucky I am. Also, I have a whole half a book lying ominously on the table. It just happens to be mainly shite. But hey! Half a book!

Anne - yes. You may Febreze your life if there is any left after I've done mine.

Chiclit - You are a slattern ninja and I salute you.

Top Bird - have you seen the size of that skull cavity? No room for a brain.

Anon1 - I also hear great things of the Xanax. Who shall we mug?

Jessica - you lovely. Thank you.

HFF - 12 chapters! Of shite! And met men say there's more to come.

Kim - I am totally viewing that as a good thing. It lacks plot though. I would be cancelled after a poorly reviewed pilot.

LIsa Marie - Shortbread is magic. But only the finger kind with the little holes in. I got some leftover Christmas tree shaped shortbread, and it barely touches the panic.

Lisa-Marie said...

Call me Scottish, but the only shape shortbread should be is a rectangular finger or petticoat tail shaped(in a circle that you split into triangles). If you wish, I shall send you some super good and properly Scottish stuff next time I make it.

Waffle said...

Lisa Marie You're Scottish. And YES PLEASE..

the polish chick said...

i had a mother of a panic attack last night. i blame the moon which is extra close this time around, like the bastard doesn't do enough damage in its normal path. lied awake till all hours, till it was too late to take The Pill of Forgetting.

Jessica said...

I can haz both Xanax and pill of forget?

Will help mug for drug spoils.

Anonymous said...

Novel??? PLEASE tell us more...

Johnners said...

Oh poor you and poor Weepette too! Hope a cool clear breeze sweeps the terrors away.

Have been finding my own way through the panic lately - God knows why it's all started, the panic, the weeping, the mad desire to be very very thin and then the kind sympathy of a new GP, almost instantly waving a script for magic happy pills... Haven't taken them, but it's kind of interesting to realise someone thinks I need them. Do I have a neon sign, do you think?

Anyway, I digress rather selfishly, so apologies. I love your blog, it makes me feel happy, and connected, so thank you very much. A. x