Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

Yesterday, when a demanding possibility for how this weekend might go -- good, worthwhile, but physically/mentally/emotionally demanding -- was on the cards for a few minutes, and then resolved by not being necessary at this time, I realized that if it wasn't urgent I'd really prefer to have the weekend to rest a bit after the week I'd had. And D and I are also mindful that it's the second-to-last weekend before we're away for a fortnight (we leave the Friday after), so we kinda wanted to make the most of this weekend.

I think we have. Today the three of us went to the garden centre and had lunch, and this evening D & I went with J and P to see Nish Kumar, a thankyou from J for helping them move house a few weeks ago.

I only knew Nish Kumar once mediated by TV producers or print editors, so it was very fun to get the unmitigated version (including him being asked to be on a show called Unacceptable about people's unacceptable opinions only to be told that his -- "if it could be guaranteed not to harm any humans, we should blow up all AI datacenters" -- was too unacceptable. He's so spot-on for me and my people (in his 40s, was a weird kid, sensible politics, and about two-thirds of the way through I was relieved to learn that he does know he has ADHD) that I'm kinda sad we aren't friends.

Sparkle, a trans charity, e-mailed the other day with a link to a survey that's a kind of a "how is everyone doing" thing: it had questions about coming out, pronouns, cis allyship, etc.

The last one I was stuck on was simply:

What are some things that bring you joy? Big or small.

I started a list that felt inadequate (being in community, dogs, etc.) that didn't feel long enough. But luckily, I have a tag here for that.

Scrolling back through a page of the entries on that gave me much more to add to the list: exercise, cheese, kindness...

It's a big reason why I started that tag: it's so easy to forget or minimize these good things. And I feel so much better when I don't.

On the way home from seeing The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue, D asked me, as he often does at the end of the day, if I'd had a good day.

"Well," I said, " nothing awful has happened all day. And I didn't nearly fall asleep at dinner time. That's enough to make this the best day all week!"

It's not great, but I wouldn't trust great right now -- I'm clawing my way out of a hole...like I'm the protagonists in the movie trying to get away from some zombies in a cemetery. It takes a while!

By the time we got home, it was almost 10pm and I just went straight to bed. But here's what I would have written if I'd been awake long enough.

After Monday felt so grim. I wanted to write yesterday that it was a slightly better day at work (averagely miserable) and that despite being so tired I went right to the kitchen to start dinner when I finished work because I thought if I sat down I'd never manage it, and really not feeling awake enough to go to Queer Club, I did anyway because sometimes that's what being on the committee means.

And it was great; September had a "back to school" theme with a quiz and stickers from fellow committee member who used to be a teacher; they said "Miss [her maiden name] says well done". We ended up doing it in three teams that were pretty well-matched so everyone got a sticker at the end.

I happened to be on a team with one of my favorite regulars and we had a fantastic time: he started writing down the answers but had to stop when he was too giggly and overwhelmed -- perhaps because having me and the person on the other side of him both whisper "Tove Jansson!" at him at the same time, a name that he doesn't know so could only guess at what we'd said, which resulted in "Toby Hanson" (a very good guess!), the first word of which the other person mis-read as "T-boy"... I can't blame anyone for getting overwhelmed at that many layers of silliness.

We didn't go to the pub -- I don't have the self-preservation to have saved me from making this bad choice, but D was as tired as me and said it was making him feel sick, so we did go home -- but we walked that direction with the people who did, including one that I told about my upcoming top surgery. They're a friend of the person who recommended the clinic I'm going to, and they were the other person who, when they found out why my multi-year attempts to get top surgery had only gotten me to the point of flipping out at people who made innocent jokes at their own expense, was very kind and said "this isn't on, we're going to get you sorted out." Unbeknownst to this person, they ended up being more correct than they had probably imagined! So I wanted them to know that.

And when I told them, they waved their hand in an excited/overwhelmed fashion which left me very excited to learn what words they were trying to get out: they were worth it! "I couldn't have one because plague [I think their top surgery was during lockdowns] but do you want a tit cake? For my friend's bottom surgery, I got vagina cupcakes..." And I heard about the logistics that led to the vulva cupcakes rather than it being one giant vulva cake; it was adorable.

When I told them my surgery is going to be in Germany, they said "leiderhosen! with top surgery scars!" and I told them that could be how the cake was decorated.

D kindly drove the three of us to Liverpool and back today, to pick up an old Singer sewing machine from someone who really needed it out of their house.

It was a lovely afternoon: the kind of blue-sky shorts-wearing day that we often get in September, usually nicer than the summer that's just passed but no less a gift for the heatwaves this summer. I watched the Twins play a meaningless baseball game just because soon I'll really miss pointless baseball games during the long dark off-season. I took Mr. Smith outside a couple of times; it was no hardship to sit outside and make sure he didn't do anything he shouldn't (escape the yard, get behind the shed, etc.). I wore shorts and sandals and needed D's hat in the car to keep from having to stare at the sun. Radio 1 mentioned that last night had been Europe's Biggest Dance Show, something I remember fondly from when we stumbled on it last year, so on the way home he found it on BBC Sounds and played it for me; we got through the UK's and Sweden's sets as we zoomed down the motorway home, with the setting sun shining in our rearview mirrors.

Struggling to stay awake today. Haven't done as much of yesterday's work as I'd hoped to. New work has appeared.

Good thing I'm not about to go get a covid booster, that never wipes anybody out!

And I've got to get up early tomorrow to have a 13-hour day going to London and back.

The guy at the pharmacy doing the vaccines was delightful, he invited all three of us to come into the little consultation room when it was clear we were all together. He was great: he was sympathetic to V not being able to get a free booster even though they're very disabled, he didn't bat an eye at our masks or how hairy my upper arm is when I'd just told him I'm a Female...

When we said we were getting the shots early so they have kicked in by the time D and I are going to Germany, the guy asked "for a holiday?" and I laughed and said "For an operation I can't get on the NHS." When we were all done and saying goodbye, he wished me well with the operation, which was very sweet.

When we got home, I started an email to a colleague with "Hey Erik." Her name is not Erik. It doesn't even have any of the same letters as "Erik"! Erik is me! Not her.

I just have not been sleeping enough lately.

I did manage to make dinner, except I forgot to make rice, but D had to serve it up (and make microwave rice). And I started thinking wistfully about bedtime by 7:30.

• I've been drinking coffee most days lately; I have no idea why. As the person who's awake first in the mornings, I make a pot of tea for the household, enough for us each to have some. I'm the only one who can drink coffee in this house so I normally can't be bothered with it, but lately it just seems like a good idea almost every morning. I think I'm feeling homesick.

• My ankle has been bad the last few days. It does a thing that just makes me feel uncomfortably aware of it sometimes, which started on Friday, but it actively hurt on Saturday. I got through lift club thanks to my old pal ibuprofen gel. And I pre-emptively added some more on Sunday because D and I helped J move, into P's house. It's been a little better today, but cranky after circuits.

• J was already at P's a lot thanks to P's care needs in the last year, but now they're formally ending their tenancy and moving all their stuff into P's place. Their flat was up a flight of stairs and almost everything was going up a flight of stairs in P''s house to the Room For Putting All The Things In. So yeah, a lot of stairs. P fed us afterwards and J was generous in their praise of us when I thought we had the easy work, just lifting and moving things. They had to do all the decision-making, and a good part of the emotional work, themselves and that's by far the most difficult.

• This morning, along with telling D and I that they hoped we weren't suffering (I wasn't! I truthfully told them that I went to bed almost immediately last night so I'd had lots of sleep and felt surprisingly good for a Monday morning), J also told V "thank you for training 2 good spoony allies. To get to that level you need to be incredibly kind for starters but it also takes a lot of practice with a brilliant mentor." I was very happy to agree that V has been a brilliant mentor to me in learning how to not be a dick to chronically ill people, or at least less of one than I was before I knew them. I really lucked out in them and D being the first friends I made in Manchester.

• I forgot I have an in-person meeting tomorrow morning -- only in Manchester, but still. I'd neglected to put it on my work calendar so I was extremely glad for the reminder e-mail today! And the offer of meeting me at the train station nearest to wherever this building is, which saves me from finding it myself. My guide is also visually impaired, so fingers crossed we find each other tomorrow, heh.

• I am extremely grateful that we have access to covid vaccines, that we can afford them now that they're not freely available. We talked about the importance of D and I getting ours early enough that they'll have kicked in before we go to Germany (which is in less than a month now!) and other stuff has conspired to mean that it's good to do this week. The only time we're all free is Wednesday afternoon. I am going to London for work on Thursday, which means an early start and a long day. I don't normally react very strongly to the covid shot but please cross your fingers for me because it'd be just my luck to be wiped out by it this time!

• "Touch my leg!" D greeted me with this morning, and held up his calf. He's wearing new corduroys! They're extremely soft, and a very pretty dark blue.

• Last week he said "Sniff my beard!" He ordered new clothes, he's trying to grow out his beard which means finding a beard oil that doesn't set off his sensory aversions to smells or greasy things. His careful research in this area has resulted in something I'm borrowing because I actually like how it makes me smell, and I'm starting to have enough beard to want it to be softer and particularly for the skin underneath to be a bit better looked-after.

We're cat-sitting Miss Frost.

Yesterday afternoon, she wedged herself into the space between the mattress and the edge of the daybed in our spare room, nestled among the cushions so thoroughly that all I could see of her when I got home from work was her dark eyes in her white face, and one ear. She wasn't asleep, she let V pet her, but she was also extremely content there.

Last night her meowing woke me up at 5am. I got out of bed amiably enough, figuring that she was hungry after not eating since the morning before because she hadn't moved from her cozy spot all evening. (I later learned she'd had a pouch of food, and a ton of pets, from V a few hours earlier!)

Her food dish was empty so I gave her a pouch of food. She was so excited that she got some food on the top of her head by not waiting for me to put it in the dish before she stuck her head in between my hands and the pouch of wet food.

She let me pet her and rubbed up against both my legs until I, barely awake, needed to go back to bed. I showed her she could follow me, and praised her bravery when, cautiously, she did.

I heard her going around my room (she has a bell on her collar).

At one point, I woke up and saw her sitting on the floor, sitting quite happily on my space rug, which made me smile because I remember so many times when I could look over and see Gary curled up there (he liked it because it's so soft). So I could happily go back to sleep.

When my alarm went off and I was getting ready for work, there was no sign of her near her food or water or litter box or the daybed covered in cushions.

Later I found her, under my bed, among the dust and the storage boxes. Again her dark eyes were looking right at me, but she seemed perfectly content: not excited about my presence but not skittish about it either.

V has twice today lured her out long enough to have food and some more pets. She's happily accepted this, but dived right back to her spot under the bed when she'd had enough. She's clearly fine, just likes being under the bed.

She's an only cat now, but for most of her life lived with two other cars and she spent a lot of time under her humans' bed then. So clearly this seems like a good idea to her here too.

I had a good day at work -- did a site visit this morning, had some good conversations that have real potential (if the person who is gatekeeping their contact details actually connects me up, anyway!).

It was literally just off the bus I normally get into town, could not have been an easier commute! Even in the torrential rain that I was greeted with when we left, it wasn't bad at all.

I'd slept really poorly last night though: maybe four hours, not all at once, and I still woke up before my alarm. So by the time I got home I was so sleepy. But I made it through my one other meeting this afternoon -- a regular check-in on a big project -- and I didn't just go through the motions, I actually paid attention and volunteered for tasks and did things, I realized a very annoying clash before it happens on Thursday and got my fellow LGBT+ co-chair to cover for me, which also gave me a chance to catch up with them (they've had a bad time lately, health stuff and then the illness and death of their last living grandparent) so it was nice to have a fun and "normal" conversation with them and luckily they're able to save my butt when I stupidly allowed myself to get double-booked...a few other nice little satisfying bits, along with the bigger stuff.

I'd booked a grocery order this afternoon, so D and I dealt with that too. And after work I tried to do some of the chores I didn't manage yesterday: I now have a thing I never thought I'd get, which is online access to my USian bank account (the bank isn't called Farmers State Bank any more but that's about the level of modernity I'd always expected from them). And I got a haircut!

I didn't get my passport renewal mailed off, but that's partly because I thought I might need the old passport, which I had to include of course, as ID for the bank thing. Now that that's sorted out, I can take it to the post office tomorrow.

I had to really gray-rock my way through tonight's conversation with my mom (uspol, church drama, cripspiration, a little bit of gratuitous homophobia...).

But on the plus side, I had years of emails that needed archiving or deleting, and I got to the end of my inbox just as she was saying "well I should let you go" (which is Minnesotan for "we're done here"). So that was satisfying.