But is yet to be achieved. Work this week has been… hard still and more than should sensibly be attempted, but it hasn’t been as bad as last week, mainly due to cutting travelling and odd hours – but not so much the overtime; the rather overwhelming workload and taking more work home with me than I actually did in the office continues. Also, I’m still on call a ridiculous number of times.
Still, snarky emails of not-so-subtle hinting seem to have at least clued people in that there is a problem and that Sparky is Most Displeased. But half the office seems to be avoiding me, which is kind of a good thing because it suggests some degree of guilt. The Partners, in particular, are not exactly conflict averse so wouldn’t be doing this evadey-dance if they didn’t, on some level, feel they lacked a leg to stand on.
And I should push it but have been unable to because of Ragey Brain.
Logic Brain: Senior Partner, I must speak with him
Ragey Brain: AHA! I shall EAT HIS SKIN!
Logic Brain: Ah, maybe not the best time.
Ragey Brain: Gah, foiled again.
Logic Brain: Senior Partner 2, perhaps I can talk with her
Ragey Brain: Oh yes…
Logic Brain: You’re not planning any skin eating are you?
Ragey Brain: Ye-mayb-uh. No?
Logic Brain: Ok, maybe some other time.
Ragey Brain: *seeeeeeethe*
Still I’m trying to get a handle on things, not least of which cutting down my ridiculous coffee consumption that has kept me going (and the mood swings that come with this much coffee and this little sleep. I think my record is 4 intense mood in the space of 20 minutes. Beloved would be concerned but he finds it amusing and is developing placards “ok rage, let’s have rage now! ooh oooh, can we go for sadness?” I missed when I threw things at him. It’s been a roller-coaster, and not a fun one. Not that I’ve ever really found roller-coasters fun – there’s an attraction to convincing your body it’s hurtling towards its death? *boggle*) and also actually eating occasionally (skipping one meal a day isn’t great, skipping 3 meals a day is just plain foolishness).
And it occurred to, well, Beloved (to my shame) that we hadn’t actually eaten a meal together for the best part of 2 weeks. It seems a small thing but it’s a quirk of ours. We’ve always had secludes that tend to run around with their hair on fire – and there was always a chance we’d go weeks without seeing each other – so we eat together. Evening meal, on table, 2 chairs, no distractions, just us every night short of major drama llamas even if it means eating at silly times. It’s irritating it is to have missed this time with him for so long. He’s not best amused either.
And of course, dear colleague you did not help telling me how lucky I am to be able to work all these hours and impress everyone – and you would do the same but you had a wife so couldn’t possibly. Yeah, Rage Brain wanted to eat your skin. It’s probably best you left then while apoplexy held me silent.
Beloved has been cooking and baking (though the word “baking” is used in the loosest definition of the word, since the man expects food to behave like maths) a lot. I would commiserate for how much more of the household thingies he’s had to take over if it weren’t for the fact I am too busy pitying me. Especially since he made a fruit cake. With 2 teaspoons of cinnamon in it. And apparently lacks the sense of smell to tell cinnamon from cumin.
Are things sorting themselves out? Yes. No. Maybe. Hopefully. I hope to be posting with some regularity in the relatively near future but sorting work comes first, sorting Beloved comes second and my commitments to some orgs come third. And maybe, just maybe, health and sanity can squeak in at fourth.