I have a piece of very interesting, cnc milled right before my very eyes, porcelain in my mouth now. The process was engrossing given that I have just enough knowledge, interest, and ability with 3D modeling and printing to understand what was being done. The crown fits great, feels natural, and replaces a badly cracked tooth without getting to the root canal plus temp crown plus real one stage.
But ohmygod my mouth hurts, and it took 3.5 times the normal to numb me up enough to do this (7 shots instead of 2). Which is now wearing off, about 3 hours faster than expected given the giant doses.
I was too stressed to post this yesterday. I was overwhelmed with all the different people asking me to do “just this one quick thing, but I need it right away”. A person who sends a lot of work my way noticed that I was stressed out, and he wanted to make me smile.
One of the funniest, most cringe worthy, and saddest part of Bojack Horseman is at an end of an episode when a random character asks Diane to, “smile”.
I just don’t even know how to describe it. The best I can do, and this is third person, is Don’t Tell me how to feel; don’t try to cheer me up; and for the love of God have a touch of empathy.
That’s why I stick with fish puns and wordplay. I’d rather invite someone to groan then tell them how to feel.
Actually, while I’m here, could i just say a hearty
##Fuck Today!
?
I can? Thank you.
Small ‘p’ politics rears its head at voluntary stuff yesterday, and in still overthinking it today.
Crappy reply to a complaint (that i was advised to make) from LG, that not only confirms that they think six months is a reasonable life for a flagship phone to start to get display ghosting, but their passive-aggressive policy-reply hints that this complaint will have ‘repercussions’ for the front-line support member who actually tried to give, well excellent customer support (this has dragged on since last year), for actually trying to help.
Oh and I woke-up with a sore throat, a light case of the lurgy and physically and emotionally run-down. Huzzah!
(Nearly forgot, the landlord wants access to inspect, prior to work on the windows, which was the same straw that last time tipped me into A&E with an I Can’t Believe it’s Not Buttera stroke )
Wheeee!
Come on tomorrow, I can’t wait for you to arrive!
My oldest friend has blocked my Twitter account today.
As far as I can tell, this stemmed from a tweet I made January 23: “I guess a The joy [ETA:] for many [/ETA] of social media is ignoring someone’s people’s surgeries and learning whether removed lump was malignant or benign.” She took this personally, and started barraging retweets of mourning her friends and relatives the last six months, She also tweeted she had found support. She did not ask me about my surgery, claimed she never saw my tweet, so I provided it. My tweet did have some replies from faraway friends showing concern, and I posted here in the “Victory” thread, so I didn’t pursue the matter further. She’s not the only LT friend who missed it.
Then I went off Twitter for five weeks to do #InCoWriMo. I did send her a birthday ecard to three of her email accounts in the interim. When I came back to Twitter she retweeted her barrage to me in direct message. I’m silent, but I’m thinking “that’s a lot of grief; I should just give her space.” But I did tweet a URL from a newspaper article about “should I see a grief counselor?”
Weeks later I posted a non-scale victory: a waist-to-height ratio of .41616 with “exercise not required.” I tweeted to my doctor that the only people who believe I lost weight this way are the people who saw the before and after me and/or were losing weight through similar methods. He liked that. This prompted general tweets from her about #diet and #exercise, how her diet was average, how diets w/o exercise failed. She’d posted Nov 2016 she was at her pre-pregnancy weight and I gave her a Like then. So the “I reduced; you reduce but you did it wrong” accusation from a non-MD when ahem I’d been under a doctor’s supervision seemed off to me. It seemed to me that she preferred to limit interactions to Twitter and make them passive and general, I prefer one-to-one interactions off Twitter. She’d complain about lopsided relationships, I’d muse silently that the ratio of birthday cards I sent to the ones she sent is at 5:1.
But with her gone, I can post a pic of me measuring my waist at 29 in/74 cm, and know I won’t be triggering someone whom I suspect would benefit from grief counseling. I know from losing my siblings and my parents that the world seems angry and unfair to the bereaved, She didn’t lose anyone that close: the only thing I can think of is maybe she’s scared of losing someone she’s attached to, so detaching abruptly might be the way out for her. It just seems dumb and preventable.
the only thing I can think of is maybe she’s scared of losing someone After a sleep it occurred to me that cognitive distortions from accumulated grief and trauma may be getting the best of her. I’ve seen academics falter and flail on fewer than 140 characters on Twitter so not sure how someone like me without a Psychology or Social Work degree would do better at concisely fighting projections and cognitive distortions.
Carlisle United seemed to have listened to my advice last week, so maybe they will listen to this bit too.
Learn about the offside rule.
686 minutes since their last (allowed) goal now. We’re now out of the play off places. I haven’t seen their results be this bad since the first half of the 2003-4 season.
So wait, because I see a doc regularly, I include diet and exercise, I get quarterly blood tests, and now I’m almost back to the BMI I was in high school, I’m doing it wrong?
It gets me riled up. We are all different. What works for you may not work for me, and that’s damn okay. And we all come in different shapes and sizes, and that’s good. But as you outright said, the judgemental part is just draining.
Dayum. At my fittest, if I held in my gut–and we are talking about a seriously low BMI, my bones couldn’t go below 33. I was in the 40’s for a long time, and now right about 35. Which is likely where I am gonna stay, and I’m happy with that.
