Bad week. Everything is falling apart at once.
The house has water damage in several places -- insurance will hopefully
cover the immediate damage from the washer with the broken door seal, but
the ancient drain pipes have also out, and the pre-existing damage *isn't*
covered. And the upstairs washer is so full of wadded-up lint that it's
not worth fixing; not clear whether a stuffy or something came apart in
there, or it's just the same lint we've been gettig. Flawed design. The
appliance guy didn't help, by not showing up TWICE, and not telling us
about the problem on either of his two previous visits.
We brought Curio's ashes home yesterday. He's now sitting on the top
shelf of the (appropriately enough) curio cabinet -- he can finally stay
there as long as he wants. They also gave us a little clay tablet with
his pawprints, and his name stamped into it. That's in the cabinet with
his collar and the little packet of his fur, under the watchful eyes of
the ceramic flying pig.
I'm secondary oncall at work this week (my first time; I somehow managed
to avoid it so far), and feel like I've been falling farther behind every
day despite working flat-out. I feel like I'm failing.
Not to mention the fact that I stupidly locked up my work laptop by typing
my home machine's password at it, too many times, before I'd finished my
coffee this morning. Because I stupidly set my screen background to the
same picture of Curio as my home computer. I'm going to have to go in and
get my account unlocked. (Added: the desktop worked -- apparently only
the laptop was locked, because it wasn't on the VPN at the time -- so I
was able to do the deployment I had scheduled, which went encouragingly
smoothly; I'll get the lappy dealt with when I go in tomorrow morning.)
The fact that my psych meds were ineffective until we changed them a month
ago didn't help, either. I was walking around in a fog of depression and
I'm burned out. I long to retire -- it would also help a lot to have
somebody at home -- but don't see how I can afford to at this point. It
will be next to impossible to get a new job at my age, no matter how much
I need one, but I'm working on it, because $A is killing me.
The only good news is that my back seems to be pretty much back to normal,
though I still have to be careful. And that, after I spoke with my TPM,
I'm going to get some help with my late project. Things might not be as
bleak as I feel. Might. Dinner and a talk with my Mom helped, too.
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