In my time off, I’ve been reading a lot but because I didn’t think I was getting paychecks anytime soon, I’ve rediscovered what a treasure the local library is. Currently I’m reading Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby. If you haven’t read any of their books, I highly recommend you do. She writes in the style I love and hope to create myself. A girl can dream.
Do you want to see what I got at yesterday’s library haul?
Yes, that is a banned book you see. #GenderQueer #ReadBannedBooks
My last haul was just as good:
I was never the person who went to the public library. Don’t get me wrong, I always saw the value in them, but I collect books. Lots and lots of books. I need a whole lot more bookshelves for all these books. In fact, it never really dawned on me to read a book without keeping it. I have some that are almost 40 years old on my shelves. Some are classics, some are favorites, and some are like Rock Star by Jackie Collins (which I must admit I enjoyed all those years ago). Could I give away or sell some of the books? Well bless your heart for asking that question.
Note: I actually do still have a library book I took out in high school. It’s a collection of Emily Dickinson poems. It’s pink. Please don’t tell anyone because I probably can’t afford the 35+ year late fee.
To eRead or not to eRead
For a while I was into eBooks. They’re really great for reading in bed when your partner goes to sleep early and the light keeps them up.
But you know what you can’t do with eBooks? You can’t admire them. I mean you can, but seeing the covers on an eReader just isn’t the same.
Is listening to audiobooks really reading?
Yes. Period.
I’m currently listening to Cunk on Everything, narrated by Philomena Cunk herself. While I’m not finding it as great as Cunk in Earthbecause the interviews were amazing, I still highly recommend it.
When I first got notice of my layoff, I had all sorts of plans to do all the things I didn’t have the time and energy to do when I was working full time. I started off pretty strong, but as soon as I got the new job offer and my time off became limited, I kind of dropped the ball. I do things, but not the challenging (for me) things I had planned (see below), opting to mostly take it easy. Today I am taking the day off completely and spending the day on the couch. And I feel completely guilty about it.
For context, here are some of my best-laid plans for the near future:
Deep clean house
Clean and organize closets
Write every day
Read everything
Go to gym every day
Roller skate
Take a ski lesson
Visit all the friends
Do magick
Everything, everywhere, all at once
When I was growing up, there was no such thing as executive dysfunction or ADHD, or if there was, no one ever talked about it. This goes for many more forms of neurodivergence, as well as mental illness, but that’s another blog.
When I did start hearing about ADHD, there was always a focus on the “hyperactive” element. And while I may be many things, hyperactive is not one of them.
The first time I saw a social media meme describing executive dysfunction, I felt seen. I don’t actually ever use that phrase “felt seen,” but it seems appropriate here.
If I were to diagnose myself as having ADHD, I’d probably be wrong because I can spend hours in concentration if I’m into what I’m doing. But ask me where I put my keys or my phone and I go into a panicked search for them—usually when I’m already late getting out the door. Plus, and don’t tell anyone this, I can be really flakey.
Someone told me this was all a sign of an anxious but also creative mind. I’ll take that as a fact, but is it though?
Today is no exception
I wanted to do all the creative things: read, write, finally start knitting that sweater I have all the materials for. So far after being up for 8ish hours, this blog is what I’ve done. I’ve barely gotten off the couch. I did also watch yesterday’s episode of General Hospital and have been binging The Rookie Feds. The first because I’m obsessed—oh my god, what is Esme going to do?!—the second because it came on Hulu after GH and for whatever reason, I got hooked. I mean it does star the woman who was in Reno 911! so it has that going for it. It’s completely and totally unrealistic and great for escapism. In my defense, I have limited TV right now because my firestick with my local channels streaming service isn’t working and I don’t have the energy to go through all the other streaming apps we have to find something.
Since we’re here: do you have a favorite streaming service that has local channels and also Discovery Science but doesn’t need a firestick?
By the way, I don’t trust anyone who says they don’t watch TV.
Where was I?
Ah, yes, ADHD. You know what? I did some laundry today too. If I ever buy another house, one of my must-haves will be the laundry on the second floor. Ours is in the basement and I was just so happy to actually have my first washer and dryer since I lived at home (25+ yeas ago) that I didn’t care where it was. Rookie mistake.
Maybe we all just need a break
Since I haven’t worked in a job in over a month, I’m probably not the right person to say that perhaps I just need some total downtime without guilt. However, even though I haven’t been working in a job, I’ve been extremely busy. I probably do deserve to spend a day on the couch not doing anything I planned to get done. We all deserve that, right? Without feeling guilty about it.
I had really been needing a break so initially when I was laid off, I wasn’t mad. It’s funny because whenever one of my amazingly talented friends gets laid off, I tell them to enjoy it because it won’t last long. In creative fields, well nowadays in any field, layoffs are frighteningly common, so we’ve all come to expect, albeit dread, it. And at first, I was taking my own advice, my positive perspective no doubt coming from a generous severance package and leftover PTO–and of course, three weeks’ notice of termination date.
It’s only temporary . . . probably.
Now this is not the first time I’ve been laid off, it’s the fifth. Even I was taken aback a bit when I realized how much it’s happened. But in my defense, three of the companies actually shut down. There is definitely fault to be attributed in those closures, but in these cases, it wasn’t mine. But we don’t need to visit that.
Well, there was the teaching fiasco
That’s another story altogether. Shout out to all my principals who fully supported me. If you’re doing the math, that’s three out of four of them. (I had to recheck my spelling of “principal” and to do so, I thought of the mnemonic device: “the principal is your pal.”) Principal number four was NOT my pal, and yes, I am still very very bitter about it.
Are you though, number 4, are you?
Post-exit strategy
This time around, I had big plans to work on my own writing and job search and do all the things I didn’t have the time or energy to do while I was working. I was going to create a structured day, because without structure, I’m pretty much useless. The plan included the gym, my own writing, looking for a job, getting marketing certifications, and the much-needed cleaning of the house.
I even thought about writing a column called, “Diary of the laid off,” which would, of course, have a much better title. (Note: despite the title of this blog, that column idea was fleeting.)
A rose by any other name . . .
The day before my last day, the gravity of the layoff hit me. When I told my therapist about it, he repeatedly referred to the situation as “being fired.” Even though it’s probably just semantics, I’m going to stick with “laid off” for all intents and purposes (as well as ego). I find termination to be a very harsh word as well, but I suppose there’s really no warm and fuzzy way to say your job is ending.
All of this made getting out of bed even harder than usual. But it also didn’t help that mornings are really cold now, the cats curl up next to me every morning, and I really didn’t have to stick to any schedule since without real obligations, I failed to set one up for myself.
What about the rest of my plans, you ask.
Three and a half weeks after my “termination date,” I’m writing the first thing other than resumes and cover letters. Now is probably a great time to shoutout my friend who gifted me time at a coworking space, which led to me meeting a woman who holds a writing group DURING THE DAY (you all know how I feel about going out at night). And today before I left for said coworking space and writing group, I cleaned the downstairs bathroom. I’m going to call all of this progress. I’ve also gotten two more marketing certifications and watched all the newest documentaries on cults. Have you seen the ones about Mother God? Fascinating.
I’m also spending probably way too much time at the gym, and if I had any self-control over my diet, I would be so muscular and sculpted right now. But you know, pasta and bread and tacos and New Haven takeout . . . you get it. Why give up one of the few pleasures in life?
Mmmm . . . funnel cake.
I am getting much stronger though, between injuries, which is really the point of it all. But it’s also an awesome “f*ck you” to the trainer who told me I’d never be able to keep a workout routine on my own. I even went to the gym with a boot on when I broke my toe (also at the gym, see “This Little Piggie Went to the ER), and damn right I made sure he saw me there with it on.
Overall, the first two weeks were a mixed bag. Honestly, if it weren’t for the financial aspect, most of the time, I would have been enjoying the break. But being a responsible adult, saddled with grad school debt and all the other bills that adults have to pay to live, I couldn’t fully enjoy my unexpected free time.
Well, that was unexpected
I don’t know if you believe in synchronicity, but you probably should. Unless you don’t want to–really the choice is completely up to you. We have enough of the government telling us what we can and cannot do with our bodies and our sexuality, I would never tell you what to do and think. (Note: If you are a racist, homophobe, TERF, or xenophobe, I will certainly tell you what I think about what you do and think.)
Anyhow, the night before my last day at my abovementioned job, I applied to one that seemed like the perfect match. Ironically, it was my boss from the job I was leaving who shared the posting on LinkedIn. He had been let go a few months ago so if I said I wasn’t expecting my time to come, I’d be lying.
The very next morning, which coincided with my last day on the job, the HR department from the place I applied reached out to see if I could interview with them. I could. The following Thursday I drove up to the office and met with two people who I really enjoyed speaking with. The following Tuesday, HR reached back out to see if I could meet with one more person that Thursday. Of course, I could. Aside from the fact that mid-thought while answering a question, I totally forgot what I was talking about, I felt like it went pretty well. About an hour later, I got the job offer.
Right now, I am literally between jobs as I don’t start my new one for another month. I think this (paid) break is really good for me and I’m enjoying it. By the time it’s over, my house will even be a little cleaner.
That said, I’m incredibly excited for the next, and hopefully final, chapter of my career.
Sometimes the universe gives you the rather aggressive push you need to make a change.
Thanks, universe. And thank all of you who have helped me through this and beyond.
(featured image: Photo by Scott Webb on Unsplash and features a woman who is definitely and most unfortunately, not me.)
what’s that saying? put the cart before the horse? that may be what i’m doing here if the cart was the previous post about my podiatrist follow-up and this post, or the horse, is all about what happened to have that follow-up in the first place.
after a two week break from the gym because of a head cold, after being back fully only about a month after healing from a pinched nerve in my neck for almost two months, i was off on indigenous people’s day and decided to go to the gym. i slept in on that glorious morning and didn’t go until around 10. that’s over two hours later than my usual time, which already started things off on the wrong foot.
the signs were there
as i was leaving my house, i noticed a dead dragonfly caught in a spiderweb on our front door. of course, like anyone else would, i immediately feared that was a bad sign. right? a dead dragonfly? but reflecting on my years of therapy, i decided i was just being neurotic and i should get on with it. (note: this is not a warning against going to therapy but is a warning against not trusting your gut. i’m going to bring this up in my next session.)
eye of the tiger
i’m on the treadmill and for the first time in a few weeks, i actually feel good. after, i head over to the smith machine to do some squatting. i prefer the smith when i’m alone because there’s much less chance of getting hurt than if using the power rack.
smith machine
likely because it was mid-morning and a holiday, the place was crowded and both smiths were being used so i decided to use the leg press. something didn’t feel right about it, but like seriously, what could go wrong?
i’ve done this hundreds of times.
in fact, there was a time when i was doing 270 total, which is 3 plates on both sides, but lately i’d been struggling with 180 after being away for so long and didn’t want to push it and hurt myself that day, i loaded two 45lb plates on one side no problem. i grabbed another and started to hoist it up onto the other side.
I REALLY DO THINK I HAVE ADHd
something in front of me caught my attention. i think it was two guys working out on a nearby machine. they weren’t at all interesting, but it doesn’t take a lot to distract me. remember that 45lb plate i was putting onto the bar? well, i miscalculated and you see where i’m going with this.
i stood there for a minute, not entirely sure what had happened. i knew plate was no longer in my hands, but it didn’t dawn on me right away that it was lying by, and probably on, my foot. there wasn’t much pain and let me tell you, shock is a blessing. i was actually going to keep going but thought it might be a good idea to head to the bathroom and see if i did any damage.
i did damage.
hello bathroom stall floor, my old friend
if you know me, you know that when i panic, my first instinct is to throw up. this is not all convenient, but a bit more so than when i get car sick and someone else is driving. but this is not a story about that, although i’m sure there’ll be one at some point in the future. i could actually write a whole travelogue of places i’ve had someone pull over because i was going to puke. is there a market for that type of book?
i sat on the floor in a stall and took off my sock and then you guessed it, i started heaving. throughout it all, my biggest concern was getting out of there without anyone noticing. i was literally terrified of having to tell someone or someone noticing. at that point, this was my biggest fear. pride is a funny, and often really stupid, thing.
goddess bless the woman in the next stall who asked if i needed any help for going to get all the stuff i left at the leg press. to this day, i have no idea who she was and am still intensely grateful.
i somehow managed to put my shoe back on, pull myself up, grab my stuff, and hobble quickly out of the locker room and out the door. i cannot express how relieved i was when i got to my car without, i think, anyone knowing what happened. and as most of you know, my car crutches were there waiting for me. and i say again, “who’s rolling their eyes now about carrying crutches around?”
Skip the er, we do x-rays, they say
as luck would have it, or not have it in this case, there is an urgent care right down the street from both the gym and my house. above the door is a big sign that says, “we do xrays.” except, of course, that day.
i got a little testy when the person at the desk kept asking me to get up from where i was sitting to fill out forms. finally, i had them bring to me because come on. at that point, my shoe was off, my little baby balloon foot was bare, and while i did have crutches, there very clearly was a problem.
once that was settled and they got me a wheelchair (which I asked for), the pa, who possibly was experiencing his first day at the clinic, checked out my foot. he was so distressed that it was endearing, and he sent me for an x-ray. he was also concerned that i shouldn’t drive so another hero of the day was my neighbor who came and picked me up and brought me two towns over to advanced radiology.
it’s important to note here that i was planning on going to the er, which is very close, but the pa told me i would have to wait too long there and should go to an outpatient radiology. he did give me a boot so i wouldn’t have to go home to get the one i already had, and with that and the crutches, getting around was relatively easy and barely painful. besides having broken my ankle three times, i knew the drill.
when i got to the outpatient radiology, they took pity on me and even though they were breaking for their hour lunch, they slipped me in. more heroes.
by the time i got back home, the pa had gotten the x-ray results and very strongly suggested i go to the er because my pinky toe was dislocated and would probably have to be set. it was better to do it sooner than later, he said. yes, the same er i had intended to go to in the first place. at least i could drive myself without the watchful, and probably understandably concerned, gaze of the pa.
we’re on co-pay number three if you’re counting.
as i waited at various points in my er trip, i realized that i wasn’t mad to be there. i mean, i was mad at my own stupidity, but since i work at home, alone, it was nice to be around people. yes, i do recognize how pathetic that is. (see coworking blog: “back to the office sort of.”) i was also really thirsty. i mean really, really thirsty. but they wouldn’t give me water in case they had to sedate me to reset my toe. that was literally the most uncomfortable part of the whole injury.
i shattered my arm once and had that reset. if you want to see the x-ray, just ask. i love it showing it off. but i warn you that it is not for the squeamish. anyhow, i’m pretty sure resetting a baby toe would be nothing like that and i could have gone without sedation and with a glass of water. but there was no sedation nor resetting, and later they told me i might have to have pins and rods put in to heal my poor little digit. who has surgery on their baby toe?! as it turns out, luckily, not me.
this pretty much sums up the “incident of the shattered arm”
this is the end . . . or is it?
before i wrap up, another shoutout goes to the woman who wheeled me to the triage on the other side of the hospital after i had the valet park my car because there are only like 3 parking spaces in front of the er. when it was over and i was retrieving my car, she came up to me to make sure i was okay.
overall it took about a month to heal enough to resume my regular activities. that said, my foot is a bit misshapen now, although i’m not sure if it looked like that before because i never really examined my feet.
also, no physical therapy was involved, which is good because i promised my therapists i would not come back injured for at least a year. i’m on a first-name basis with everyone in that orthopedic practice.
for more on the aftermath of the “incident or the pinky toe,” see blog: “oops! i did it again.”
Hi, I'm Gia. 