(no subject)

The worst of these few days of high pain is entirely over. I know this because I slept all morning. It'll take a couple of days for my body to remember that it doesn't have to be so big and me to stop hurting, but I'm past the awful stage. My temperament will be more equable and I will be able to read lists and follow them through. My life will be quite magic for a little.

What's cool is that even though the pain these recent days was as high as it's ever been, I was able to do work throughout it. It wasn't as completely debilitating as it used to be. This is because the underlying body is getting better. In other words, all that effort to get better is finally paying off.

And my housework is already done for the week, thanks to the dinner party and Donna's help. Instead of spending the weekend trying to wade through mess and put things a bit to rights, I can spend it (mostly pain free) doing work. I have leftover food to see me through, too.

There's no teaching prep AT ALL for next week. I only have the one class, and we're going on an excursion and I did my teaching prep for *that* last Wednesday. Even my teaching pack (portable whiteboard and markers, spare paper and pens, baby whiteboard eraser) is already packed. Since there's no teaching on Tuesday, this means that I can get solid deadline-meeting done for days and days. Well, until Tuesday. There will be stuff that gets in the way, of course, but not as much as usual.

That's the good news. The bad news is that during the tidy, I found that books had gone walkabout. Not that many, and they're all herded into place again. I thought I'd found books that needed writing about, at first, and I couldn't remember reading any of them. Very fortunately, only one of them needs finishing and the others was a mising pile of books I had finished.

It was unfortunate that the books were so forgettable that I had to look to see if I'd done them. This is why those books weren't used in the first place. I may write about books I dislike (especially if there's a theme I'm discussing or an interesting analysis that can be done) but I don't really want to write about books that are entirely forgettable. Not many are, and these probably hit me at the wrong time, but still, I had to look twice to make sure, and that's a bad sign.

They'd moved because they'd got in someone's way (the price of working from home) and it doesn't matter how often I ask people not to change the piles of books, someone does it. It's not done with ill-intent, ever - and it's mostly not even done consciously. People look at books and put them down and most people don't think of where they were and how they were stacked as part of what those books are in that environment. Fewer people do this with paper, but occasionally someone passes through my place who does it with everything: books, paper, ornaments, things on cupboards, things in cupboards, things under cupboards.

Part of my normal cleaning up after dinner parties is to put the books back, because I do not expect invited guests to avoid looking at books and to remember where precisely they were obtained and to know that I work with systems. I mostly put my books back last night, so that today I didn't have to think "Did anyone look at that book? Where could it be?"

When I'm working on a lot of projects at once, and when even a paper moved will slow me down (for these stacks and piles of books and paper are my external brain at certain stages of work) I just won't let anyone visit.

I didn't get all my books finished by yesterday, but I made a valiant effort. I have four to go, and the actual deadline for them was Monday (Monday coming) so I should be fine. I only have 13,000 left of the words I need to write between now and the end of the month. Also, there are only eight more days until Ms Cellophane is let loose on the world.

(no subject)

Today has become a high pain day after all. I was fine, though, when I woke up, so the end of the cycle is approaching* (just not apace).

A wise friend has suggested I do something quite unusual and rest. I have until Tuesday to have finished all the things I must do. The housework is mostly done. I have chicken soup on the stove. Maybe an hour in bed isn't such a bad idea.





*For those who are worried, most of this stuff is now perimenopause interacting with my allergies and the PCOS. Perimenopause is an evil, but it will finish one day. All I have to do is get through it. Some months are worse than others, and this is the worst one in a year. hence the whingeing, but also hence the thinking "I'm fine now" when obviously I'm not. Normally by this stage I've been over it for two days. I'd take it to the doctor, but each and every day I get longer before it hits and symptoms diminish faster, so it is just the cycle. And yesterday I managed work, housework and a dinner party, so it's not as debilitating as it used to be.

(no subject)

The only work today has been the research and notes for one article and some rather important thinking for another. Mind you, if I can get the book read and notes taken for a second article, then they day won't be a waste and I will have to try very hard not to feel guilty about it. I'm doing guilt well at the moment. Every time someone scolds me, I take it to heart, even if they've said the same thing fifty thousand times before.

Tonight's dinner is leftovers. Chicken sofrito is so magic cold - I had forgotten. I should have served it cold last night, so that my guests got the magic. As it was, I suspect they thought "Not bad" and couldn't understand why I had been driven to make it. I've worked out a way of making it in the slow cooker, so I might eat it more often. The lemon and the cardamom and the turmeric and the chicken just work together.

My next book is pop science, so it may or may not produce an article. I have told the book already that if it puts Canberra on the coast, I won't review it. I hope it's taken that warning to heart.