I know, I already did a New Year Update, after my grand total of like five entries last year.
Doc says I can put skates back on Feb 1st.
Last night my team skated without me and crushed the opposition like usual. Y'know, we do what we do. It's an incredibly consistent group of chicks with a really smart coach and a really passionate captain and a really has-her-shit-together associate captain and a really has-everyone-shit-together bench manager (last night she was, a six-foot tall woman, in heels with a gold necklace that had two-inch-high letters reading OBEY in gold with rhinestones; we love her so much) and I just loved them all but it was really hard to watch and not skate.
But even standing to watch the game, my shin ached and my other ankle (my "good" ankle) panged and my knee sucked and Jesus Christ, when did I suddenly become a million years old? I've been off-skates since November, and I'm falling apart.
I have much of this coming week off to go home and visit my family. Ann and Fiona both moved back from out of state last year, as I've mentioned, and I still don't have it through my head that they're there.
I keep thinking to myself that I should really want to move to Troy. I mean, I really should. Almost my entire family is there now, and it would be so cool to just... to just see them whenever I want. I know it's like that for many, many people, I'd venture to say most people, throughout the world-- they live near their families and see their moms whenever they want to and babysit their sisters' kids and whatnot. But I've never had that, not in my entire adult life. I left home the year before college and never came back, not for keeps. The last time I 'lived' in my parents' house was only for a couple of months in 2002. Since then I've always been at least 200 miles away.
And I'm looking for jobs, and looking to change careers, and all. But do I want to leave Buffalo? Do I want to go to Troy? Z works remotely now, for a company based in Connecticut; the other programmers are in North Carolina, Virginia, Toronto, and Oregon. Z could live anywhere. I don't know if he'd want to leave Buffalo; he has a good group of friends here. And his mom, technically, but she spends so much time in California with his sister and her son that she's never around.
Eh. I have my team, and can't go anywhere while I'm with them.
But for the first time, I'm not strictly tied to my job for health insurance-- the new legislation means that if I changed jobs to one that didn't offer it, I could purchase my own, and it wouldn't just be the costs-a-quarter-of-your-income-and-covers-nothing "Healthy NY" I tried to use before, where if I made too much money I was ineligible anyway.
The seasonal depression is brutal this year-- I have it well-medicated, so I don't feel like sad or anything (or anxious, I used to get awful social anxiety), I just have no executive function. Give me a clear-cut task and a timeline to do it and I will stare blankly at it until the deadline has passed. Getting anything done is fucking Sisyphean. The dishes, oh the dishes. my house is a disaster. I rearranged the living room and ran out of gas before I got anything put away, so the furniture is great and the plants are where they should be and the lights are all plugged in properly to the switches and then there's a pile of junk in that chair and all the drawers are still empty and there's boxes and piles on top of boxes on top of all the shelving units. And nothing on the shelves. And I still have no artwork on the walls of the house I've lived in since 2005. Sooooo...
I bought one of those happy light things, at the doctor's insistence, so we'll see if that helps. I don't want to be happy, I just want to be able to fucking take the goddamn laundry out of the dryer after it's finished. It's so incredibly stupid. And that's the worst part-- you're like, come the fuck on, how hard can it be? Just get off the damn couch! And you're like yeah, I really ought to get off this couch. And then you fucking don't, for no reason, even though you don't really want to be on that couch. UGH.
And then you overuse italics like crazy, and you're still on the fucking couch.
Hey, the coffee's done. I want some coffee. I should go get some. Yup. It's right there. The cup is right in the dish drainer, the good one that I like, and I know there's a spoon right there, and there's even cream in the fridge. So good. I can think of all the steps. I should go do it.
Orrrrr.... Z will probably wake up in like 20 minutes, and then he'll make himself some and I can make him make me some...
You see how this goes? Ugh, I have a rare moment of motivation so I'm gonna publish this and go get myself coffee. Maybe.