seen from Brazil
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Did I just spend a silly amount of money on a highland cow weighted animal? Yes. Was it on sale? Yes. Am I a grown human who is in control of their own money? Also yes. Will it hopefully keep my anxiety down when the brain is going into silly spiralling modes of panic? Hopefully also yes. It's been a long day in a long week and there just needs to be something to look forward to, truly
Losing my debit card somewhere between leaving work (or going for lunch earlier today) and getting off the tube and having a panic attack in the tube station before I managed to pull myself together, cancel my card and get home to ring my bank and confirm that the card had been cancelled was not how I wanted to end today but there we go
3 am thoughts: I need to step back from fandom. I’m currently in a horrible cycle of self doubt and flagellation that my work can never live up to imaginary expectations, not least my own self imposed criticism. It’s not enjoyable any more and I hate feeling like it’s missing something fundamental.
Things that you learn extremely quickly as a legal librarian for the Judiciary/legal advisers and all of their technology related woes: getting a High Court Judge on a Teams call where you can walk through how to log into the main databases and reassure him that he isn't going mad and commiserate about how tricky finding things are now (they're not they just need a few extra steps) since the migration is so much easier than explaining things over the phone/in an email chain where things get lost or misunderstood.
I am in need of a stiff drink or a hug or both after today. And my brother is coming to stay later after flying in from a work thing in Warsaw. So that's fun. And then a group of university librarians from the University of Birmingham are coming tomorrow. I will manage. I will complain loudly and bitterly the whole way until we get to Friday evening, but I will manage.
Today has been A DAY. If anyone wants me I will be *Flops over in exhaustion*
Keeping one eye on work and the other on the local election results and feeling very slightly sick. There’s a long way to go until the full picture comes clear but right now every time the horrible turquoise graph of doom on the BBC website inches up my resolve that we’ll get out of this in some form of sanity falters a little bit
I have been in this job for 3 years, WHY does requesting holiday still feel like the worst possible thing I can do? I have holiday leave to take. I am entitled to take it. And yet I am always turned into a quivering wreck who is convinced that it’s the worst thing ever to request it.
When your job is basically putting words in front of each other in a ever more desperate plea to please just be patient, I'm not paid enough to be your AI chatbot, and you need to read and follow the instructions and ocassionally indexing stuff and cataloguing and possibly even looking away from a screen for 5 minutes, having a WIP fic that recently passed its 1 year anniverary that you just can't seem to get the words together to finish the next chapter is particularly galling. If anyone wants me, I'm watching the Operation Mincemeat livestream and trying and failing not to cry.
