Tuesday, December 11, 2018

What's Going On

I've been having fibroid issues, at which many Women of a Certain Age will nod knowingly. Basically, my uterus is a bit crowded for what should be a low-traffic area at this point in my life. Friday I was supposed to have a procedure to investigate and improve things, but it didn't quite go as planned and I have to go back and have it done under general anesthesia. This rather blows, but on the bright side, the nurse taking care of me was Gina from Brooklyn 99. I mean, she probably wasn't really, except she was, if you know what I mean. Except nice. Really, really nice. And there was fentanyl.

Last Monday I was at work at my Monday school and the vice principal came in and told me that the other library technician had had a family emergency and he wanted to know how many of her shifts I could cover. Not to make her family emergency all about me, but this, again, rather blew. I'm loving work, but my whole plan to Get Christmas Shit done after being away for a week in November and going to Zarah's for the last week-end (FABULOUS time, don't regret either thing a bit) revolved around continuing to work very little. Also, I have very bad feet and never thought I could do this job full-time. Also, fibroid issues.

My first instinct is always to say yes to everything and save the day as much as humanly possible. Probably fortunately, this wasn't really possible in this case since one of her shifts I was at my Wednesday school and Friday was my surgery thing. So I did as much as I could, and it was kind of cool, and it caused me a lot of pain, and then on Sunday I found out she was coming back this week and there was much rejoicing in the kingdom. So this week I'm working very little again, dealing with some minor pain and bleeding fallout from the procedure, and Getting Christmas Shit done.

The new procedure many of the kindergarten children have decided on is that they line up to leave the library and then as they're saying good-bye and thank-you they also hold up they're book and yell "WHAT'S THIS SAY?" and I read as many titles as fast as I can as they walk by, and it's hilarious and very rewarding.

I didn't do Christmas cards last year - there were too many other things to do, and it was part of my "do what you can and let the rest go with as much equanimity as possible". But I missed it, so this year I'm doing them again. I got most of them in Monday morning, which is probably still late for some areas, but it made me happy anyway. I've run out of my Shutterfly return address labels so I'm using the free ones sent to me by charities, which I always complain about and now I'm going to have to make grumpy donations in return.

As usual, I feel slightly dizzy with all the money we've spent on Christmas, even though every year we DO scale back a bit. And trying to achieve at least a respectable match for charitable donating makes me even dizzier, but it's worse if I don't. I've gotten better at not feeling resentful for all the work that goes into Christmas - refer back to "do what you can and let the rest go" - but I really feel deeply for people that work full-time and are trying to make a magical Christmas for their families. I don't see how that's possible without at least some resentment. It's a conundrum.

Right now thought, there are fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky, I'm about to bake gingerbread scones while listening to Christmas music, my painkillers have kicked in, and Lucy is sleeping peacefully on a rug beside me. At least she was until this very second, when she started digging around and making weird snorting sounds. Sigh. So magical.