Meant to be going to see new Head Doctor tonight but I really can’t be bothered. Getting to know a new shrink is not going to be easy, and I really don’t know where to start. I’m just in a big muddle right now. Hopefully she’ll be a good therapist and can help me figure it all out.
There comes a time when you have to accept defeat. When you know that your endeavours will be fruitless, and the only outcome of further effort will be frustration.
I reached that point today.
After 4 years of Apple fan-dom, I decided to check out the competition, and got the Samsung Galaxy S2 – an Android phone. When it arrived I was excited and eager to try what the dark side offered. I set up email, Facebook, LinkedIn, Dropbox… all the usual suspects. All went fine, until I tried to sync it with my MacBook.
Serious googling before I purchased it convinced me that although it might be a little inconvenient to work with, it wouldn’t be prohibitive. I was wrong.
I spent 4 hours trying to get it to sync my music to the phone, with 3 different programmes, over USB and over WiFi. I shouted, shook my fists, banged the table, cried, then got P to try and make it work. It didn’t. It just refused to sync.
I started to panic. I would be stuck with this £400 phone for 18 months, heartbroken and frustrated. But then I asked myself a question – what am I trying to achieve, forcing myself to use this phone? I called O2 and put my cards on the table: this phone is unusable. It will not speak to my MacBook. And hurrah! My begging fell on receptive ears! I can return it for a replacement.
I am an Mac geek. Sorry. I’m going back to iPhone. I dipped a toe in the Android Sea and didn’t like it. I’m sailing back to Apple Ocean and will be diving right in.
Now I just need to decide: do I go straight for the iPhone 4, or do I try to assemble some patience and wait for iPhone 5/ iPhone 4S?
Yesterday I went to register with the counselling service at the university. I’m seeing someone next Wednesday. I have no idea if it will work out, or not, but at least there are other counsellors who I could see if I don’t like this lady.
I’ve been thinking for a while about seeing another head doctor. Not because I’m having any real issues, but because I notice that some bad habits are creeping back in. I am utterly unable to make decisions. I fail completely to deal with stress. I must be in control at all times or everything becomes impossible.
I guess I’ve been lazy. I have lost the habit of checking my behaviour. I hope this new counselling adventure will help me to keep it real, as such, and not let my laziness get the better of me.
A new week brings new motivation!
So far today I have:
OK so now I’m writing here, but still, I’ve achieved more this morning that I did in the whole of last week.
Have a busy week ahead of me too. I have to finish this project by tomorrow, then I’ll be back in Edinburgh Tuesday – Wednesday, on Thursday my long awaited sofa is being delivered (or at least it had better be, otherwise I’ll be firebombing Harvey’s furniture store for LYING blatantly about delivery times… they said it would take 3.5 weeks 2 months ago!), then on Friday, well, Friday will be my first day back in work WITHOUT BRACES!!!
I’m so excited! I think Tuesday night I will be like a kid on Christmas Eve.
Anyway, back to work.
Given that I’m too bruised to venture into public, I told myself that this week I would finish one of the projects I took on earlier in the summer. The client gave me an open deadline – basically finish it when I get round to it – but obviously I don’t get paid if I don’t do work.
P has been busy this week too – he’s supervising some postgrad students’ theses – so it seemed like a great opportunity to work.
Alas, it was not to be. The reasons were three-fold.
The cake was (is) wonderful. It’s a chocolate cake with raspberry cream filling and bitter chocolate ganache on top. But the cake will not pay for all the furniture I have bought since moving house.
Tomorrow, I will write. I swear.
Well I’m back in my sick-bed. Recovery-bed. Recovery-bean-bag actually.
My body decided that it didn’t like the metal screws and plates the surgeon used to reconstruct my jaw, so I had another operation on Friday to have them removed on one side, as an experiment, to see if I got less trouble.
It was day surgery this time, meant to be simple. I had a new surgeon. Mr K, the surgeon who originally fixed my face, works at another hospital now. New Surgeon is rubbish. I know this for three reasons:
The nurses, as always, were lovely. They got me as many painkillers as they could and I took all of them. I needed them. I even needed the opiate painkillers I was prescribed (but never used) last time.
P drove me home afterwards. Saturday was a write off. On Sunday I managed a trip to the supermarket but only got as far as aisle 4 before I started to get dizzy. Today I managed to drive but I also managed to pull one of the stitches in my mouth so I feel a bit sorry for myself.
Now in my PJs, drinking tea, watching nonsense on TV, realising that I have a perfect opportunity to post on my blog again. I’ve got a couple of milestone events coming up and I thought it would be nice to document them.
Firstly, in one week and two days, I’m getting my braces taken off. I’ll have to wear a retainer, but this will be removable. My teeth will be free!
Secondly, I’m turning 30. Thirty. Three-oh. Bloody hell.
