The Real Me

It occurred to me the other day to consider the new people on my friends list. Technically, they aren't 'new people' at all, since I've known them for a year. But on the other hand, they sort of are.

I don't really know how I look to people. Hell, I'm only just getting used to being around people, much less being myself around people. I know how it sounds, but it's true; as you can probably tell from reading this, I do tend towards introspection, introversion, downright shyness, fits of overthinking, low self-esteem, a borderline martyr complex, self-analysis, nerves and what cholten99 has called "skittishness". Most of my LJ friends know this; they knew me during the really bad times. And for the past year, I have tried to ... well, not so much hide this from my 'new' friends, but at least keep it under wraps. I'm not sure why, exactly, except that I'm never entirely sure of other people -- hell, who can be? -- and there are bounds I don't want to overstep. Overthinking and skittishness again. It's different with cholten99; we had a relationdateshipthing.

I never even considered changing my approach to livejournal when corone, dodgyhoodoo and weaselbitch all got livejournals in the space of about a week. Not entirely sure why; maybe I'm just not panicking about me being me anymore. Well, not so much, anyway. I can't look someone in the face and say, "Look, I'm shy, my self-esteem isn't all that great and so I get nervous and embarrassed when people are nice to me". However, I can write it here. If I get a reaction that I don't like, I'll deal with it when it comes.

And surprisingly, so far the only reaction has been "You are a daft sod at times, you know". And I do know; have known for years. Quite possibly, so have they, but they don't seem to mind that much. I'm being me and they like me anyway. While this isn't as liberating as you'd think (because after all, the masks, postures and skittishness are as much a part of me as the stuff the masks and postures hide), it takes the pressure off a bit.

One day I will get used to low-pressure friendship, where I don't have to be a certain way in order to make it work. For the time being, though, it's nice to have people around who are patient with the learning process.

On Call

I've just discovered something: this job really sucks over the holidays.

Don't get me wrong; I don't hate this job anywhere near as much as I hated working in diagnostic imaging at ChelWest. The hours are decent, there's no need for overtime (not at the speed at which I type, anyway) and sometimes the patients are even nice to me. Fine, you get arseholes, but of course they're being arseholes; they're worried, depressed and being fucked about by the NHS. I'd be an arsehole too. (Okay, no I wouldn't, but most people would.)

Still, it's not nice to get stroppy with me just because my consultants won't be in the office for two weeks. Of course they won't be in the office for two weeks; it's the fucking holiday period! How would you feel if someone turned around and got stroppy with you for spending the Christmas holidays with your family when you should be working? Fine, it's different for you; you're probably not a doctor and people's well-being doesn't depend on you. Well, frankly, if that's the case then they deserve a holiday more than you do.

I see this all the time. Whatever Brookmyre says about doctors viewing patients as cases rather than people, it's not always true. I've seen that angle, but it's obvious from the letters I type that my consultants actually talk to their patients, view them as human beings -- whether it's "I reviewed this charming lady" in a clinic letter or "Oh, not that old goat again" when they read the message book, they're still not a lab rat. And yet, charming lady or old goat, and despite the best efforts of the team, these patients die. And the doctors know these people are going to die whatever they do; they take great pains to point out that the only treatment we can give for the kind of cancer they have is palliative rather than curative. There aren't cures. And the consultants and their registrars and SHOs have to deal with that every single working day. This is why the only profession better known for its drinkers than medical is law enforcement, and why the poor buggers deserve holidays of some length. I mean, hell, mostly they aren't even on holiday; there's an on-call rota, but that's for emergencies because even the NHS acknowledges that their doctors need a break.

So if one more person turns around to me and says, "But I don't want to talk to an on-call registrar; I need to speak to a consultant! This is ridiculous!", I'm going to reach through the phone and smack them. I don't like people grumping about people who do so much for them having the same rights to time off as they do. Do people always take their doctors etc for granted? Surely that's not fair; we have a free healthcare system that sometimes even works properly, and there's always treatment when you need it. So what if it's not the exact person you want to speak to because, "Oh, I like [particular consultant]"? Don't be so fucking picky; they've all had the same training. And if you've been seen by a consultant at your initial outpatient appointment, you can make do with a registrar now; we all know what's wrong with you.

Ungrateful harpies.

Once More Into the Breach

I'm going to go and bake Mystery Pudding. I haven't done any baking of any sort in a few years so I don't know how this is going to go. With a little luck, I won't burn the house down or poison anybody with the end result. With a whole lot of luck, the end result will be palatable.

Muh. I fear the kitchen and all the damage I might wreak therein. Help?

*sigh* Well, fortune favours the brave. Here I go.

[Edit] Outcome: Several cluttered work surfaces, one oven in desperate need of a clean, two burns (must go soak hands in cold water) and possibly edible Mystery Pudding. I go soak hands now. Ow.

Stuck in the 90s

Well, since only two songs got ticked off my lyrics meme, here are the answers:

1) Silverchair -- Abuse Me
2) Papa Roach -- Thrown Away
3) Gravity Kills -- Suffocate
4) Far -- What I've Wanted to Say
5) Theory of a Deadman -- Nothing Could Come Between Us
6) A Perfect Circle -- The Hollow (guessed by nightskywarlock
7) Toad the Wet Sprocket -- Nightingale Song
8) Bush -- Out of This World
9) Ben Folds Five -- Smoke (guessed by nightskywarlock)
10) Cubanate -- Oxyacetylene

What can I say? I haven't got dodgyhoodoo's discerning taste in music. I seem to be locked into the 1990s in that sense.

Well, I've done Mystery Pudding (I think it might actually be alright; now all I have to do is get it to Sourcebook Central in one piece), and I've removed all traces of flour, sugar and miscellaneous ingredient from my hair. Now I'm gonna veg out and then go to bed. Yuki seems slightly aggravated that I will not devote all time, energy and attention to petting her, so I'd better at least partly rectify that.

Have a good holiday tomorrow, guys!