Cabin Fever
Jan. 11th, 2007 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianWhen I was quite young - maybe six - my mother took me to some skeevy wax museums, mostly horror-themed, in Niagara Falls. I recall crying and having to leave very quickly. You'd think someone that was reading Stephen King a year later wouldn't have had that problem. Now, thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kixie, I think I may have figured out why said wax museums distressed me so.
If any of the models were this bad, it's no fucking wonder I started to cry.
PEOPLE PUT SHIT THIS BAD ON DISPLAY?
In other news, for the first time in about a year, there is nothing on the floor on my side of the bedroom except for shoes, furniture, and the laundry hamper. And the lady from the recruitment agency is still trying to chase down the Royal Brompton people but says that if that one doesn't come up, there's another one with the Royal Society of Medicine that has an actual end date, pays a fair bit less but is a good foot in the door. And at this point, I can hardly turn down a job that will actually pay me money. The lady from the recruitment agency knows that I would prefer the Brompton job, but does understand that I want to be employed now. So she's doing her best. It's nice of her to keep me posted, anyway. If only everyone was so good at, for example, returning my godsdamned phone calls.
Apparently there might be some sort of Pagan Federation 'do on Saturday. Between being ill, being depressed and being hacked off at the world at large, I'm not sure I'm going to make it even if it does go ahead. However, I realise that a goodly portion of my stress and depression has to do with a very, very limited ability to get out and do anything. I know that going out will make me exhausted and queasy and in pain, but I am sick to death of being at home, trying to drag jobs out of agencies and doing as much cleaning as my substandard energy levels allow. It's frustrating. Bleh.
Seriously, though, I've missed everything in the last few months. I haven't been able to run a Mage session in weeks (though okay, there was the HIPPIE thing but that was out of necessity), I missed Beltane Bash, Dragonmeet, Feast of Fools and more pub meet-ups than I can count due to illness and I only ever seem to go out for Waitrose runs these days. And just cleaning up my side of the bedroom has reduced me to a state where I feel I can do little more than curl up in bed and go comatose for a couple of hours. I'm tired of missing things, I'm tired of being ill and I am sick to fucking death of being stuck at home.
kixie, I think I may have figured out why said wax museums distressed me so.If any of the models were this bad, it's no fucking wonder I started to cry.
PEOPLE PUT SHIT THIS BAD ON DISPLAY?
In other news, for the first time in about a year, there is nothing on the floor on my side of the bedroom except for shoes, furniture, and the laundry hamper. And the lady from the recruitment agency is still trying to chase down the Royal Brompton people but says that if that one doesn't come up, there's another one with the Royal Society of Medicine that has an actual end date, pays a fair bit less but is a good foot in the door. And at this point, I can hardly turn down a job that will actually pay me money. The lady from the recruitment agency knows that I would prefer the Brompton job, but does understand that I want to be employed now. So she's doing her best. It's nice of her to keep me posted, anyway. If only everyone was so good at, for example, returning my godsdamned phone calls.
Apparently there might be some sort of Pagan Federation 'do on Saturday. Between being ill, being depressed and being hacked off at the world at large, I'm not sure I'm going to make it even if it does go ahead. However, I realise that a goodly portion of my stress and depression has to do with a very, very limited ability to get out and do anything. I know that going out will make me exhausted and queasy and in pain, but I am sick to death of being at home, trying to drag jobs out of agencies and doing as much cleaning as my substandard energy levels allow. It's frustrating. Bleh.
Seriously, though, I've missed everything in the last few months. I haven't been able to run a Mage session in weeks (though okay, there was the HIPPIE thing but that was out of necessity), I missed Beltane Bash, Dragonmeet, Feast of Fools and more pub meet-ups than I can count due to illness and I only ever seem to go out for Waitrose runs these days. And just cleaning up my side of the bedroom has reduced me to a state where I feel I can do little more than curl up in bed and go comatose for a couple of hours. I'm tired of missing things, I'm tired of being ill and I am sick to fucking death of being stuck at home.