I’m finally getting around to scheduling all of that crap that I have been putting off for months — vetrinary check-ups (Loki hasn’t seen a vet since losing her womanhood), dentist check-ups (it’s been about three years), eye check-ups (it’s been about five years), physicals (maybe a decade?), oil changes (I’m almost to 3750 miles). It feels good, strangely, though I always worry what I’m going to find out in the coming weeks — your engine is grinding its pistons away, you will be blind before the year is out, your teeth are all rotting, your kitten has a tumor, and your leg is eating itself from the inside out. I’ve been putting most of these things off because I have work to do during the day, and there’s no time for this, but it’s time to start making small steps towards reclaiming some of that time — telling rather than asking. Not big steps, but it’s something.
That said, work is already killing me this week (whatever, it’s killing everybody). I need some relief (whatever, so does everybody, it’s just the time of year). All I want to do around 17:00 is go home and go to sleep, and I’ve still got hours ahead of me (whateer, everybody works long hours). I’d feel better, honestly, if I saw my management was struggling with the same hours and pressures, but they seem to be able to escape without any hit to their conscience (whatever, everybody’s management wank wank wank).