We really got to a low point when we were both sick. And the little attempts at doing bits for the If-tober prompts were frustrating and I hit a wall really fast. And then work on my end has been horrific. I think I just squeaked by on losing my job, and at the very least felt like I landed under some scrutiny that doesn’t help my anxiety at all. I do the best I can, and usually I do really well, but something I was either trained on incorrectly or that I understood wrongly (I’m not into pointing fingers so I’ll take the failing upon myself), it all added up to me feeling like I took a giant step backwards in proving myself as an asset to my company. All in all, no one treated me unfairly and, in fact, are being pretty supportive all things considered. But I’m pretty unhappy.
Granted, the high points of this job still don’t measure up to the rougher days at my last job. And that’s part of it too. I don’t want to get canned from a job that I’d rather be able to move up from. But I also don’t want to do bad work period.
Anyways, got my hair cut (finally) yesterday for the first time since I interviewed for this place over a year and a half ago. And got the beard trimmed too, which I’d been growing out since quarantine hit six or so months back. I don’t think I’ve ever had the hair on my head shorter than the hair on my face before, but I just went for it. It was due. Erin loves it. And maybe the long and short of it is that there’s a specific reason I wanted to clean up.
But I’ll talk about that another time. If anything comes of it at least.
A week and a half of not writing is a bummer. But I’m not going to give myself too much shit this time out. I had a birthday and we had our wedding anniversary and didn’t really get to enjoy either of them, so let’s call the first two weeks of October a wash and try to pick up… something.
Gaiman gets fixed tomorrow. Talk about a metaphor…
