long day. long week.

long post and blogger just ate it. Too much work and too much time at home and too many dead babies.

This is coming up to my fourth summer at rehab, the first as an appie. The second I ran the centre for a month. The third I was at home a lot, in hospital for a few weeks, mostly doing baby stuff on my own. And mostly feral pigeons and indian mynahs - the unloved and unwanted of the bird world. The ones most people would kill as soon as look at.

I don't know if I can do another baby season. Even the most expert of us don't run much better than 2/3 of the easiest species, more like 50% on average. I'm not the best, but I'm not bad. And I don't think I can cope with that many little bodies, not after I've loved them and fed them and breathed into them for a week or ten days, however long it takes them to live or die. Five in the last three days, including the biggest heart-stealer of all time, the little White-eye. Lost this one after 8 days. Had a fairly experienced volunteer crying on my shoulder earlier this week, about losing babies. I was trying to say, as well....I can cope with them dying in the first 3 days, and then I give them a piece of my heart. And they take that with them when I lose them....

give and take

there was a horrible, horrible accident this morning. I had the little finch-baby on his towel on my hand while feeding him. I was leaning on the hot-box while I did it, as with something so small and wriggly, it helps to brace both hands on a solid surface. Of the 12 pigeons, two are off the heat, the four smallest are in one nest, and the others are in a big tub. They were also desperate for a feed, and suddenly, one managed to get on top of his buddies and leapt out of the tub onto my hand. And one of his long, strong toenails went into the little guy. Totally freak accident, but the baby was dead within a minute. Not the pigeon's fault at all, but really heartbreaking after the finch had survived so much already.

And then this afternoon, as I was doing last feeds, one of the pigeon eggs on the hot-box suddenly split in two and out rolled a little blonde baby. I was wondering this afternoon how much longer I should keep incubating the eggs for, before accepting that they won't hatch - guess for a few more days still!

It doesn't take away the heartbreak of losing the little guy, but it does help to remind that life is a cycle. And without death, the miracle of new life can't happen.

definitely spring

baby bird season is in full swing. I have 12 baby pigeons, one mynah, one White-eye about an inch long. And the newest arrival, a little finch who is so fragile that I can hardly pick him up. He is about 3 days old, and was dropped in the swimming pool by a mynah who was probably taking him home for supper on Friday night - luckily the house-owner saw it happen and got him out immediately. I'm surprised he has survived this long, but he's obviously a toughie. Only hope he makes it, as I'm starting to get very fond of him.

With the last two on 30 minute feeds, there hasn't been much time for anything else this weekend. Not even afternoon naps. So I'm tired and miserable. And if this is how it feels already, don't know how I'm going to make it through baby season. In spite of me bawling through most of the appt, p-doc was all smug, because he reckons feeling worse off the Pexola is a good sign. Wonderful. Now if only I got to feel good with it or anything else. At least one of us is optimistic about the Aurorix though.

This is going to be a bitch of a week, and the following one will be worse. The work meeting that the moronic account team cancelled on Friday has been replaced with an all day workshop on Thurs - to discuss about 20 mins of info, and with traffic, I will be out for at least 11 hours. Waste of time and resources, and the client ends up paying for it. So have had to cancel both p-doc and t-doc for then. T-doc is away from Friday so will see her this Tues and then not for two weeks. Don't know if I'll get to see p-doc at all. And my own useless manager has suddenly decided that he needs to know what 'we' are going to say on Thurs, so has called a meeting for Weds.
After he has done bugger all for 7 months on this, I don't really see that he can justify any interference now just because his managers are going to be at the workshop.

With how I feel at the moment, I almost wish they would fire me. It would probably be a good enough reason to finish things off. And I just don't know how much longer I can endure this anyway....

such a bitch

the worst bit about yesterday's trip was the way I yelled at the guy bringing the tortoises. I don't know the area, and had looked up where I was supposed to meet him, and then it turned out he didn't have a clue where that was and every time I phoned him he'd come up with some other landmark where he was, and I couldn't even get him to tell me which road he was on. So I kept losing it and starting to cry and shouting at him to please just find the river or ask someone. Felt like such a cow.
And then I'd cry for ten minutes and phone him again, and lose it all over again.

Cried for an hour back to town. Cried even more when I realised it was two years since one of our senior volunteers was killed in a car accident. Just about cried for the rest of the evening.

And today, cried all the way to see p-doc, firstly because work is stuffing me around and most of what I've done for the last 3 months is going to be wasted because the people who should be driving this project don't want to tell the client that the reason he is going to pay huge amounts unnecessarily is because they've stuffed up. Cried for most of appt, and all the way home. Cried about birds dying. Stopped reading really sad book about teenager shooting herself, and started reading what should have been a happy chicklit book - all her others have been - only to discover well into it that the edgy feel of the first bit where her husband isn't with her but you don't know why is because he's dead. They were on their way to dinner, and then there was a car-crash and he was killed. All of a sudden the first part makes sense, even though a lot of it is her emailing him and leaving messages on his cell. Been crying all afternoon in between little bird feeding, and all evening too. Not even half past eight, and going to bed now. Can't even double up on sedatives because I'm on call - guess I can cry myself to sleep instead...

long-distance day

drove about an hour south of town today to fetch some tortoises. 12 huge buggers and 2 smaller ones. And had to wait for almost 3 hours for the guy bringing them from their home - problem was, they'd come from a farm in another province and we couldn't go there to fetch them without permit issues, so I'd arranged for them to be brought to the provincial border for me to pick up there. Really heartbreaking. This lady has had some of them for 31 years, made sure they were never isolated from other torties, sounds like they had a perfect home. And now her husband has died and she can't stay on the farm alone and has had to move to a town complex, where she can't take 14 tortoises. She has spoken to me at least 15 times this week, and every call has ended with her having to hang up because she's crying so much. So hard, to lose first your partner, then your home, and then your beloved pets.

We release that breed of tortoise in a private reserve, so I know they will still live well. But I haven't found the words yet to say that they won't be tucked up in bed each night. And I think somehow that maybe I shouldn't.

waste of space

- saw t-doc today. And once again, just couldn't talk. Not for any good reason, and not her fault at all. Every time she tried to direct things, I found myself diverting onto something less raw. What makes me feel even more useless is that she is only seeing a few patients this month. So I sit there for an hour and just about don't talk about anything more meaningful than the weather. Absolute loser...

the russian way

So Toni over at No Eye Contact, please asked how Russians drink vodka. Now this is purely hearsay, mind you, based on what my sister told me, and she did admit that the lessons got somewhat blurred.

Apparently, the first thing non-Russians do wrong is sip. And taste. Neither of which is supposed to be done to vodka. My sister tells me, in a strong accent aided by a few goes at the Russian vodka, that 'vodka is not for the mouth. Is for the stomach.' and that it is served in very large shot glasses, at least two tots she reckons. Having thrown it down your throat, one waits two minutes before having a second, and three minutes before the third. So that's about 6 tots of strong spirits in 5 minutes. After that you can settle down to a steadier pace for the rest of the evening - she wasn't too sure whether there were any other rules.

Guess I'd be banned from the pub for mixing my vodka with about 500ml of Coke lite!

Today was a drive-around one. Pick up a pet mynah who had been found in someones garden, pick up two baby doves, pick up dog and take her through to domestic-rehab centre for treatment, and back to pick up an unknown number of pigeons. Inner-city school, with contractors doing some remodelling, and not being comfortable with sealing pigeons into the roofing they were about to close up. So, there I am on a short ladder, sticking my hand into a gap just arm-width and 8 inches above my head, and feeling around for nests, and then for babies. All in a roof that hasn't been cleaned for about the last 30 years. At least 30 years, and with the nests that the current inhabitant's grandparents 20 times removed had left there, along with all the associated pigeon-poop. And an audience of about a hundred school kids. Not my favourite rescue scenario. Didn't manage to catch any of the parents, but brought home one babe of about two weeks, one of about two days and 6 warm eggs. Might be too soon for the eggs to be viable, but at least they will have a chance. It's unusual for builders here to call us - although some of the biggest, burliest guys I've seen have come in with little birds nestled in a hard hat. Mostly they just clear the nests out if it's easy and close up. And I've heard horror stories about some who just close up regardless - feral pigeons worldwide are regarded as vermin by many people. So, yucky as it was, I really appreciated the chance to get the babies out.

Most interesting pigeon fact? They always lay two eggs about a day apart, in almost 100% there will be one of each sex, and in about 78% of nests the male chick will be the firstborn. No-one has learned yet how they manage this so consistently - there are other species that generally have one of each sex, but none that manage the order quite as regularly. Reason for this apparently is that the male is stronger at birth and for the first two weeks, and if there is a sudden food shortage or some other natural hardship and the parents can only raise one chick, the male will stand more of a chance of surviving. Brings new meaning to loving one's brother....

weekends were made to be wasted

umm...in more ways than one. I achieved the basics - fed all the little birds, albeit both of Friday night's babies didn't make it. Washed the pigeons and slung them out into the aviary. Met rehab-boss at a 'body mind and spirit faire', comforted the body with two new t-shirts, some pure salt crystals (negative ions), and some incense. Green apple and cannabis. Hey..I had to. Don't think anyone in this country would believe that one would burn cannabis incense rather than the real thing. Swear, sometimes I really do think I stopped maturing at 15 - that is such a teenage thing to buy.

Other than that - afternoon nap yesterday and a wordwar with ex next-door neighbour. I figure that one of the rules of borrowing stuff - apart from asking nicely and returning it when requested - is to accept that just sometimes, people might have plans for their own possessions that include using them. And then don't get fucking rude and huffy about it.

So today's plans were so overladen with her resentment that after I'd checked out an injured dog in the informal settlement and made arrangements to pick it up tomorrow for a vet trip, I ended up not playing in the garden and slept most of the afternoon instead. Finished off with one of the most confused and overwhelming dreams I've had in ages. All sorts of people and crowds and feelings of inadequacy whatever I did. And pizza, lots of pizza in there. Not that sure I want to know what the dream interpretation guides would say about pizza-nightmares. Even ones with goat's cheese, rocket and sundried tomatoes.

My sister and BIL are just back from Russia, where she says that the tour matriarch's first task was to teach them to drink vodka like Russians. I suspect the guide had had a few to demonstrate when she came up with this wisdom : 'one bottle is too much, two is almost right and three is not enough'. So I'm about a third of too much, and a hundred percent ready for sleep....

yo...spadework!

...on two fronts has showed results.

First is extracting little animals from the local zoo, for rehab and release. OK, extract means that they give them to me, not that I lead commando raids over the walls at night. And it's only the ones they don't want anyway, so nothing exciting like the polar bears or others that I'd love to see released. Will save zoo-rant for another time - suffice it to say that (as with most things) I'm in two minds about whether they are good or not. So after about two weeks of innocently dropping hints and nuclear missile-strength stories in the ears of the zoo-hospital staff as well as enlisting my rehab-boss's aid, I got to fetch a meerkat, a banded mongoose (pic above, from wikipedia) and two 'padloper' tortoises - on the 'scarce' list in their natural habitat. All of which will be released as soon as possible. Cool thing was that when I took the whole bunch plus some little birds out to the centre, boss and I formed a new meerkat tribe out of the zoo "loser", two previously-pet females and a neutered pp male, and they settled in OK. There will still need to be at least one viable male added before the end of the year, but getting 4 of the little savages together without bloodshed is a good start. So we followed it up by introducing the mongoose to the other one at the centre, as they are also sociable animals, and - two for two...that also went well. I have a feeling that I also agreed to drive them about 500kms north to their putative release site next week...sucker.

Second spadework result is that late last night, the critical applications resource sent me a mail saying he's now available for the upgrade of my products, and let's move ass. Might have had something to do with scheduled meeting, because he had to have been assigned to this - which just reiterates that we should have had this meeting with the client two months ago. So now the big Q is whether between him, me and other DBA contractor, we can push, shove and otherwise mutilate this into happening before the change-freeze. And, of course, the Q for me is whether I really want to...knowing that if I do it will mean 6 weeks of bloody hell for me. Coupled with doing all-client standby will mean that by Nov I'll be suicidal, self-injuring, drinking litres of vodka, irritable as all fuck and all the other joyous responses to over-stress.

Actually, spade-work on a third front too. This one literally - the lavender bed to be has progressed substantially in the last two days, both horizontally (easy) and depth wise (micro-progress). And as a result of pick-wielding my wrists are in agony, while the small trowel work has given me a mostly skinless thumb. It hurts at the time, but that gets overridden by the obsession with seeing progress. It hurts a whole lot more a couple of hours later.

Weekend plans are mostly feeding 6 little birds every 2-3 hours, as well as washing two oil-soaked pigeons again (toothbrush and dishwashing liquid kind of micro-scrub), and meeting rehab-boss to buy tie-died t-shirts tomorrow. She needs the tree of life /Celtic knot one that I bought at the horse show I worked at two weeks ago for her b/f - I need more tie-died versions of anything. I have an inherent weakness for hippy-remnant clothing, especially when it is mixed with things like wolves and dragons. Even if the whole family celebrates every time one of them wears out from overuse.

Shit. For a day where I was lying in the bath crying for the first three hours of it, at least I got something done. Guess that is all I'm aiming for. Heading for the three year mark of this dip, and every day of it would be spent under the duvet or underground by choice. So I kind of have to hang onto every little bit that I get done. And every little bit of bad that gets put off until tomorrow....

big bad wolf ain't at the door anymore....

...he's in the house. Eating whatever he wants, sleeping wherever he wants. Taking over my fucking life, as if it were his alone. It is, I guess. Ain't mine anymore. Or if it is, I don't want it.

T-doc yesterday, who is being really sweet by fitting me and a couple of her other losers in around getting married and having people to stay and going on honeymoon etc. Appreciate her doing it, but almost wish she wasn't. I don't want to spoil things for her by howling on her shoulder. So instead I just keep things superficial - which means her making the time for me is even more of a waste. And then a few hours of hanging around that side of town before having dinner with a friend who used to live on the same farm way back when - was one of those invitations that can't be turned down, not without end-of-friendship results. She didn't even know that ex-B/F was dead. Almost 3 years now. I'd thought it was just going to be us and her daughter, but turned out to be a whole girly dinner-party. With a huge chunk of the dinner conversation revolving around the church that all except me go to, and the politics involved. So I spent a lot of time outside smoking and wishing I could just go home.

Today's highlight was being reminded that the advantage of not having a life is that when p-doc's receptionist phones and asks if I can make it for an appt in 4 hours, the answer can be yes - otherwise wouldn't have seen him this week. He got onto work somehow, and the meeting that should have happened months ago but that is now scheduled for next week. At which my company will try to proclaim innocence about screwing up my main client, and costing them at least a million in licence fees. I'm expected to go, stand up and present the position and plans for my products without mentioning that I've been telling management for at least three months that they need to be pulling finger. So once p-doc had finished pissing himself laughing about me doing presentations (he still doesn't believe that when it comes to faking it I am so fucking verbose), he asked what I was going to say to the client. I figure it depends on what client asks, but I'm not lying to him. Not just to cover the site management's asses. P-doc asks about likely consequences. Number 1 is that I get fired, which he seems to think I should care about. I don't.

Would give me one less obligation to keep hanging on for.....

late again

Last night ended up being another 02h00 in the morning blog-mission. Blame Cranky Professor over at The Cranky Epistles.
Awesome. Not only is she an English professor, but yo! she can cuss! I thought I'd been practicing hard for many years, but she leaves me standing in sheer inventiveness and versatility. Somehow I don't think she ever came close to the PG blog rating.

Don't know why, but I am so reluctant to go to sleep. Not having nightmares with the current meds (Seroquel.....dragons beware!, Nardil too), but just put off taking meds for ages, and no chance that I sleep without them.

Needless to say, morning was the stagger round like a walrus bit again, and only got out the bath finally at about 10h45. Bath naps are different to normal sleep somehow. Couple of collections on the way, and got to the rehab centre about 30 mins after the last oil-soaked bird was washed. Guilt then impelled me to go the very long way home, to drop a trap and pick up another, then to visit Andy's mom in the local informal settlement and drop off cat food as well as all sorts of shampoo and tick dips.

And then home, to feel like a total space-waste ever since. Still have no clue as to when if ever anything that I need to plan for will happen. Not tomorrow, I guess.

For tonight though, it's blog-browsing and Josh Ritter again, until I can talk myself into bed. Guess sleep is the cap on the day, the final sign off on another day of being a failure and an asshole....

invasion of the pc borrowers

poor cat-buddy is still without PC, so she spent much of the day and evening here doing her urgent work. As a result, I'm feeling deprived (of hours of surfing...nothing important!) and over-socialised. Even though she is probably the person I am most able to spend time with, today was just too much time with people. I went out to domestic-rehab centre today too, taking my rescue boy to see their clinic manager. Took him to the vet as well, while he was out in the car anyway - he now weighs 20.15 kg! I haven't noticed how much weight he's picked up recently, but in early July he only weighed 14.5 kg.

Feeling so unsettled at the moment. I know there are all sorts of things that will probably happen this week, but none of them have dates or times attached, except for seeing t-doc on Weds. Have to attend a work meeting with senior people at some stage, but no-one can tell me when. Will hopefully see p-doc sometime too, but don't know when either. Need to schedule rehab shifts to help wash birds. Just need to know what will be happening....

And am drinking way too much this week - started with being on call, and not being able to take enough sleeping tabs. So I'm now off call for a week. Yippee. Have remembered why I don't like the Ambien though - it might mean I can function in the middle of the night, but it really knocks me in the morning. Sleep through alarm, sleep in bath, only get moving by about 10h00...kind of knock. Hohum. Don't know what else to try, given that without something I am still lurking around the house at midnight.

I am so tired of feeling like this. I am so tired of defining my life by meds and appointments and what to try next. Nothing fucking works. I want out, one way or another. Just too long. Too dark. Too lonely. Too fucking pointless.

dead day

So after the 02h30 bedtime, I didn't go anywhere today. Didn't do much either. My attempt at an afternoon nap was irretrievably ruined by burns charity ex-neighbour who, as her least-tolerable attribute has a belief that running a charity means that she is entitled to whatever she wants at any time. She's pissed off with me already because when she wanted me to jump on Thurs and provide free transport to somewhere I didn't want to go anyway, I was miles away releasing animals. So today, after I ignored a phone call - because I had my eyes clenched shut, trying to stay asleep - she sends my ex-tenant with instructions to take my wheelbarrow "because she had already asked for it". Bull. Plus it would then mean having to nag repeatedly and eventually yell in order to get my own property back for me to use it. Not to mention that it was half full of dirt, and my plan was to continue filling it after my nap.

Which I did, so at least I managed my 90 mins pseudo-gym workout. I have a moral problem at the moment. There's a new gym opened reasonably close to home. Now, p-doc would be delirious if I started going to gym, and my one irrefutable excuse has been the lack of one that is convenient. My own interest is far more theoretical than real. So do I join and then feel guilty every day of my life if I don't go, or do I pretend that I haven't seen it. And seeing as it's an independent, and gyms in this country don't have a great record for staying open that long, can I convince myself that I can justify waiting 6 months to see if it lasts.

And now, I'm - once again - listening to Josh Ritter downloads, while I read blogs written by people who are funny and write well and actually have something worth saying. One of the strange of trivia though, is that almost all the blogs I enjoy are written by people in the medical field, across the whole range, or lawyers. I can understand the interesting topics, but it burns that they all, without exception, write so well too.....

"who will love a little sparrow....

....Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth
"For all I've created returns unto me
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be"

Paul Simon 1964

Been loving lots of little sparrows this week. And pigeons, and doves, and oiled-up seagulls from a spill into a wetland reserve. Writing too many eulogies as well. It keeps me out of too much trouble, I guess. But adds a lot of hurt too.

Dinner with my folks on Weds - in town to look after my sister's kids while she and h/b are attending a conference in Russia. And dinner tonight with cat-buddy - with way too much wine and even way more too much Chinese food, because I wasn't feeling very sociable, would rather have had quiet evening and early bedtime. And quiet weekend has bitten the dust, between cat-buddy probably being here for big bits of it because her PC blew earlier and she has a book deadline to meet, so I offered mine as emergency aid. As well, I have to go out to domestic-rescue centre to drop some stuff off, SPCA to return a trap, and our centre to wash more birds. Even with contracting and working from home, weekends are different. Mostly because housekeeper isn't here and I can indulge myself by spending the day never getting further dressed than my bath towel.

Good bit for the last 4 days was seeing p-doc today. He wanted to know what sleeping pills I've been taking for last week if not the benzo, and conned me into admitting that I still had some Ambien in my collection. Tells me gleefully that he can always see when I'm trying not to mention something cos I get a strange little twist to my mouth. Damn, I used to be the best liar I knew. Although I never lie to him anyway, I'd like to have the option though at least. So he's now made a note in plain English - rather than code squiggles - that he will only give more Ambien when he gets something in exchange. And that when I'm on call, I have to take less. In return, when he wrote the script for the next week, I summoned up my most innocent face when it got to Ambien quantity and didn't say anything as he figured how much he'd give me - he stopped at 1 1/2 per night. Only taking one when I'm not on call, and a half when I am. Shit. I might as well enjoy feeling like I scored something for tonight, because I'll end up confessing next time.

And he wanted to know if I'm coping with the whole call thing. Said I was, sort of. I'm not. Tied up in knots half the time, feel like I'm not coping with anything, never mind work. Feel sick every time the phone rings. This is why I stopped working full time, and it's even worse now because I haven't been doing the stuff every day. Not sleeping properly doesn't help, and neither does not eating or stuffing my face.... and when I do eat, I generally throw up. Don't honestly know if getting paid lots is worth this, but I can't quit now, not with just having signed a years contract.

Shit, shit, extra shit....almost 00h30 and work has just called. For the client I know least about, with a problem I know nothing about because it's a result of other problems they had with the tape robot. Timeout while I throw up again. Guess this one is another wing and a prayer one...if anyone listens to atheist's prayers...

good/bad

the good bit: down to half an Ambien. Still wake up 5 times. But don't feel groggy, and woke up on time feeling clear-headed.
the rest: feeling clear-headed has no influence on feeling crap. Way down in the dungeons crap. Kind of a giveaway when you lie in the bath at 07h15 and cry because the day has already been too long.
and the stupid bit: sleeping in the afternoon for less than an hour. That's enough though to make me too awake to go to sleep early. So the crap day gets to be a crap evening too....

no-name post

Started off with one of the senior client-liason guys on my major account calling. I now know that it has been absolutely pointless sending a weekly report on the upgrade project every Sunday, because obviously, not one of the outsource-at-the- client team has read the bloody thing. So client tells them that client expects other product upgraded 3 times by Jan, even with 3 month change freeze over the holiday period. Outsource team wakes up. At last. Other product has been waiting on my upgrade for at least two months, which has been detailed every week in my report.
They call meeting with me and other tech-team leader for this afternoon. We tell them this again. They panic. How are they going to explain this to client. Solution is that they plan a meeting for next week with client very-senior-management for next week, and tell me that I need to come along and tell said VSM what the hold-up is (waiting on applications vendor staff to fix applications....) - presumably so VSM knows that it's not them holding things up. Good news; meeting with client doesn't scare me. Bad news; if client asks, I will tell him that this has been known for months and nothing has been done by managers to get it resolved. Very bad news; as of next week, it will also be costing client very large sums to run old version of other-product, and client is going to hit the roof. Oh well....I have documentation to support me, and it's been a long time since I've seen someone hung, drawn and quartered by this client, who has a particularly astute nature, a very ascerbic tongue and a huge dislike of being kept in the dark. Something to look forward to, even if I will have to find more officey clothes to wear for the meeting.

This anonymous way of not specifying client, my company, products involved or any other identifying details makes things very complicated, doesn't it.

That wasted most of the afternoon. Saw t-doc in the morning, who is regretting not taking her father up on his offer to pay for them to elope. She reckons that wedding planning and organising is way too stressful - having seen my sister's version, I agree with her. Highly unlikely, but if I ever find anyone stupid enough to marry me, I suspect I'll ask him if we can do the very very intimate foreign country version - just the two of us and the minimum legal requirements. Extra-highly unlikely, seeing as I am way too scared of my mother to try that!

Being tense about not seeing her and p-doc (possibly) for patches of the next month is enough to make me feel like Borderline is at least partly a match. Not that I want it to be, but there are still too many of the criteria that apply sometimes. The self-destructive behaviour, cutting and suicide, and this one...the fear of abandonment or perceived abandonment. Even though I know it's not, and that weeks and fortnights pass quickly with baby birds and standby and digging up the garden, it scares me that I still feel so tense about the possibility. Especially seeing as I don't actually even know whether p-doc will be MIA at the same time at all, and wouldn't consider asking him either. So stupid, given that he knows so much about me, but there are still subjects that I won't either raise or discuss.

Ah hell...let me try sleep, so that when Ops phone again they'll get me in full deep sleep mode. I am terrified about being on standby at the moment as well. Not only that I'll be too dopey to respond properly, but also because I haven't supported most of the clients or their software for 3 years now, and don't remember enough about either part to be comfortable. One client is a new one that I have never supported, which is even worse. And I've had too much of a break to trust my instincts anymore. I used to know that in spite of everything, I was a really hot DBA. Which was some consolation for stuffing up the rest of my life. Now, only the latter bit applies...

all around the town...

...starting later than planned, due to not sleeping much last night with meds "amendment". How come though, I could easily rack up hours if I start at about 06h00, but until then I sleep so lightly? I've always been renowned for my ability to sleep anytime, anywhere - albeit the naps that earned me the reputation have always been the ones that I've had in places that I shouldn't have. I know the theory is that you need less sleep as you get older, but I'm obviously out of step with myself, because I need more than I am getting, no matter how much that actually is.

And then out to a big horsy-stuff exhibition, where the rehab centre had been given a stand. Major achievement was buying 11 Christmas presents - hah! I break the December 20th curse at last! That's the one where you swear blind that you'll do all your Christmas shopping before July, and not only miss that deadline, but are then struck by a kind of idea-paralysis that only leaves you on Dec 20th, and normally means you do all your shopping in one shopping centre on one of the remaining three nights along with most of the population within a 500km radius. And vow never to leave it till the last minute again, only to be caught exactly the same way the following year. Of course, buying things now actually means that by Christmas I will have a)been overcome by wanting to give the gift sooner, so will only have about 3 of them left and b)the remaining 3 will be hiding somewhere sensible in the house where I won't be able to find them until about 28th Dec, so will have had to succumb to the Dec 20th curse all over again.

Apart from the delusional gift-buying satisfaction, it was a long day. Managed to scrounge some money and some possible new volunteers for the centre though, so not too bad. Offered to take the display stuff, including our educational owl, back to the centre on my way home, then offered to pick up an injured bird after that, so only got home to starving cats and dogs at around 18h45 (potentially-starving little birds had come with me), which is now having a knock-on effect on my evening. Don't feel that I have been home long enough to go to bed (even though I am yawning hugely), and by the time I do, will end up - again - not getting enough solid sleep, so will be tired in the morning. And agreed earlier to get up an hour before I have to, to wake the tenant in my cottage up because she has let her mobile phone go flat, doesn't have a charger, and doesn't have an alarm. Ummm, she's also 24, living in a foreign country with a responsible job....why am I having to act like a mommy? Oh, thinks jcat, and hasn't paid her rent yet either, which was due before the 1st...

However - as someone who even with alarms and reminders on the phone etc - still ends up with her t-doc phoning to make sure she is out of bed for time-critical wake-up calls before catching planes etc.....I can't really deny the universe some revenge!

Which reminds me that I get to see t-doc tomorrow. Good. Need it. And also brings an unwelcome thought that I am way too dependent on both t-doc and p-doc, and that the rest of this month is crappy from that POV too. T-doc has carefully made arrangements to see me in between getting married, hosting lots of visitors for that, being away on honeymoon etc, but just knowing that she is unavailable for much of the next 6 weeks is scary. P-doc is back from holiday tomorrow, and his receptionist has found me an appt for Fri, but then it's three weeks before the next scheduled one, so will be on the cancellation list, and I have a horrible feeling that he mentioned some congress that he's going to as well - just don't remember when or where, but there is a vague suspicion that it's the last week or so of Sept.

Sometimes I think that I should stop seeing both of them, and sink or swim on my own again. I don't like needing people. Especially not people with whom - no matter how intimate the relationship is - are intrinsically not supposed to be people that I depend on so much that the idea of them being simultaneously unavailable can worry me as much as it does.

I think the most appropriate phrase would be 'get a life'....

oh yeah, constructivity rules....

- another pair of days where I'm sitting here trying to work out what, exactly, I have actually done. Umm. Not much. Read lots of really interesting web stuff - blogs, and meds research, and news. Some great new blogs. How come medical blogs (many of which have nothing to do with psych stuff) are just so fascinating? And so....educational? I haven't wanted to be a doctor or nurse since I was about 8, but somehow it seems like almost all the blogs I hit regularly are med-related, either from a provider or patient perspective. With regular visits to Drugs.com to look up meds by their foreign names, and to Wikipedia for everything else I don't know. Seeing though, as I'm never going to be a healthcare kind of professional, that probably doesn't count as constructive.

News? Well, IOL had my favourite headline of the day. SA has always had full-service fuel stations, and no-one is going to change that - not only 'cos we're lazy - but it also does provide a lot of(albeit not well-paid) employment. But the editor who let the article about a wage increase slip through headed 'Hefty pay rise for petrol attendance' is due for a new dictionary....

Fetched 2 little pigeons. Collected a Fennec fox from the rehab centre and took him to his new home. Not normally a place we would rehome anything, being the city Zoo, but in this case, a far better alternative than his previous status as a pet, being kept in somewhat inadequate conditions. Although the "owner" had a permit, when NatureCon inspected the place, they withdrew the permit and requested that we find an alternative. The Zoo was delighted to get him, and had prepared a huge and exciting enclosure for him, and they've already started looking for a mate. Ok, bird and beast missions always count as constructive, so that gives me about 3 hours credit.

Oh - must remember to tell p-doc next week (it's one of his permanent nagging points) - I was sociable last night! And - second nagging point - almost sober with it. One single over about 2 1/2 hours, but I did drink a whole lot of green tea instead - had dinner with semi-sane cat buddy last night at the local Chinese restaurant. As always, we both ate too much due to our permanent inability to decide on what to eat, which means we end up going for either the set menus (knowing that they consist of too much food) or choosing 3 or 4 dishes to share (ditto on too much).

And I've now quit taking the midazolam as a sedative. Wasn't doing that good a job anyway, I was still waking up 4 or 5 times a night, but I was really uncoordinated and groggy when I did. Am going back onto doing standby for the IT job for all mainframe clients, not just my "own" one. Which means the likelihood of being called has risen dramatically, and it's all for software that I know really well but haven't been dealing with for 3 years. I can't take the chance on not being able to wake up enough to handle calls. Don't know what I'm going to use instead though. Even with Remeron being sedating, without an actual "sleeping pill", I'm awake till 04h00 - and little bird season is on the go, so they need first feeds anytime between 05h00 and 07h30 (at the latest and only for the bigger babies). And I don't function without at least 7 hours of solid kip. Last one didn't work at all, the two before that were OK, but not great. Guess I wing it for the week on those, seeing as I have a couple of each in the collection, and see what p-doc says when I see him on Friday. He'll probably snigger lots about me having dipped into my savings, and refuse to give me anything else until I give him back the midazolam remnants. And/or the other waifs and strays - I really hate myself for keeping them so obsessively. Only good point is that somehow having them makes me think less about using them, or anything else. Doesn't stop me from keeping the pool hose in the car though.....