Karl (louderback) wrote,
Karl
louderback

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*sigh*

Friday was almost painful. My back was acting up again.

I hated looking at my interview tape. Why didn't somebody tell me that I had become fat, baggy-eyed, ugly, and twitchy. The bags under the rings around the circles around my eyes are "unbecoming".

Monday was an awful day as well. I left my briefcase in JC. The only major inconvenience to it is that I am going to wind up brailling several pages of reference sheets over again. I am doing reasonably well with my Braille, but my memorization is not what it should be.

The afternoon was appallingly bad. I guess depression issues are arising again. I fell asleep and missed out on "toasted ravioli night" at the hotel's happy hour. *sigh* I do love toasted ravioli. I also missed last night's episode of Witchblade. It is the only TV show I follow regularly these days. *sigh* It will doubtless be broadcast again this week.

Sleeping is erratic. Most nights I'm sleeping between 4 and 6 hours pretty normally, but it may occur between 15:30 and 21:30 or several hours later. Whatever remains of the night no longer consists of "dozing" as previously, but of unpleasant alertness.

I'm rather down about recent incidents in which I have bumped my nose against my vision problem. To wit:

  • Friday last I made the mistake of serving chips and salsa to a room full of blind people. Bowls of hot cheese to be dipped up with breakable tortilla chips is a recipe for an astounding mess and literally dozens of messy fingers.
  • Last night I unloaded the dishwasher and spilled a bit of water on the floor. It wouldn't have happened if I had been able to see it. The problem was compounded by the fact that I got down on my knees and cleaned up the mess quite ineffectually.
I really detest the fact that I now have a procedure for emptying the dishwasher. Is there to be nothing reasonably normal in my life anywhere, ever again? And don't give me that new normal crapola . . . having to feel around my dishes before I move them in the dishwasher is far from normal, quite inconvenient, a pain in the ass really, and a lengthy, patience-consuming process that I don't enjoy and wish I didn't have to do. I hate walking nose-first into this sort of shit. Banging my head on the wall occasionally I can live with. The memorized procedures and processes of daily existence are what but me. I used to live my life (such as it was) now it's all paint-by-number.

Well, that was depressing.

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