Packing goes poorly

Friday..... I finished moving the Lego from my lounge and then all the Lego from my bedroom.  I showed Tina about my new place and I sorted through and chucked out some stuff.  Including my pharmacy practice lab stuff and all the lab books from when I was teaching chem.

Saturday, through out some more stuff.  Then showed Oli, Greer and family around my new unit.  Their older child took great pleasure in running around like a crazy person, flicking switches and enjoying the utter lack of furniture to crash into.

After they left I went to town for a sort of date.  I assumed it was a friend thing so pointedly didn't change to nicer clothes.  Then it was all getting a hot beverage with someone very likeable.  Conversation was easy and good.  I got my hopes up slightly more than I should have (he has since made it clear his interest goes only to friendship).

Sunday, I mostly just relaxed as my body was noping everything I tried to make it do.

Monday morning my dad and sister arrived pretty early.  Dad built a floor for my storage cupboard so I don't have to worry as much about minor flooding or rising damp.  Then we had lunch and did some shopping.  In the evening I had role-playing where the contrariness of my character led the DM to get visibly angry at me.

Yesterday, I had coffee with the guy I met on the 15th, who is mostly good company except for his habit of reminding me he picked me to be friends with because there is no chance he could ever be attracted to me.  It was fine to establish, but it doesn't need repeated.

Today was mostly wasted, but met up with a couple of friends in the afternoon and got Paasha dinner on the way home.  I hadn't really slept last night.  Haven't been sleeping a lot recently.  So crankiness is all I am.

New digs

Tuesday happened.  I am utterly failing to remember what I did.  I think I was just being sore from walking too much on Monday.  Wait, Tuesday involved finishing packing my display Lego.  And then dropping and smashing my Disney castle - after which I picked up (hopefully) all the pieces and then had a long cry.

Wednesday morning I went to Hocken library with a bag full of old school magazines/year books and my collections of theatrical programs, funeral programs and ticket stubs going back in my teenage years.  And the library took them all.

Stuff purged.

I got rid of things I have no use for but could never bring myself to throw out - because I am stupid sentimental about being stupid.

Then I got home and a while later one of the tenancy managers (the one I can't take seriously as his fly was down through the entirely of the first function I met him at) arrived with my new lease agreement and keys.  I have keys.

So them I went and made an awkward tour video through my unit for instagram.

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And then I started moving my boxes of display Lego.  By the end of the day I had moved all of it.  Completely filling one of the bedroom wardrobes.  Which means it is safely out of the way for when actual furniture gets moved.  In the process I utterly burned myself out.

This morning I couldn't stand for a while.  But recovered a bit faster than on Tuesday, and managed to go down the stairs for my small countdown order as that same lazy delivery guy claimed that the COVID level prevented him going into apartment buildings - we are back on level one, that excuse is stupid.  My Lego minifigures series 21 arrived and the box didn't have the mix of pieces they had told fan sites (but not the product listing) so I didn't get three full sets but two and extras.  I also learened that the movers won't be moving my furniture until March, so the stuff I have already moved may be premature.  And then I took up Oli's offer for lunch in town.

After a nice lunch of Satay soup with Oli, I bought a couple of shirts from Farmers and headed home.  Then I bumped into Shitlord's bestie again and had a more normal conversation this time.  It seems Shitlord really did burn his bridges.  His I-guess-now-former best friend is not happy with him, and said several things that made clear that they were actual things and not just stuff in my head.  I am not as crazy as I often worry I am.

Then I got home before hitting the wall.  Spoons overspent.  I went splat.

Too much of a week.

 I was right.  It went badly.

On Tuesday I got out of bed and was suddenly on the floor.  It was into the afternoon before I could properly stand without my legs giving out.  And the pain lasted days more.

But it did rain on my old office computer and thus is was very wet before anyone would have stolen it, and thus they didn't.

On Tuesday evening I went out for dinner with an almost friend who I catch up with maybe once a year.  Was nice.

Wednesday.... happened.  Will have to think for a sec and work out what happened.  I know my plans for the day cancelled slightly too late to not be irksome.  I think I must have mostly just been dusting Lego.  I really recall nothing.

Thursday, after much Lego cleaning I went for dinner at Speights with Firmin now that it is safe.  I had shanks and did nothing to tip off the kitchen staff who know me that was was there.  It was nice.  Firmin is always good company.

Then I got home and had a night where I entirely failed to sleep.  At all.

So Friday me was FUNCTIONAL.............

Saturday I had managed a little sleep, and then it was off to my grandmother's memorial service in Harwood.  Throwing handfuls of rose petals onto the tidal mud flats while my mother played slightly cheesy music and everyone avoided sharing memories of the departed.

Then a big lunch with family, two of my grandmother's friends and some of my mother's friends that she claimed my grandmother had liked (there is limited truth, my mother never pays much attention to what other people think if it disagrees with the narrative she is telling herself about the situation - this was especially true with her mother).  Mum had had candles made of my grandmothers teacup sets, and gave one to every woman there except my sister - who she is still not acknowledging as a woman where possible.  Because trans fun times.  And I found out my mother's old house recently sold for about four times what she sold it to her boyfriend for only a few years ago.  That may have also left me a bit cranky.

After the lunch I hung out with my cousin (technically first cousin once removed) Breffni for a bit.  She is pretty awesome, and has always been one of my favourite relatives.

Sunday I dusted Lego until dinner time with my dad and sister.  Dad had planned the trip and come down, so far as I can tell, purely in response to my having mentioned Speights was safe now. So to Speights I went for the second time in this entry.  This time I had the ribs.  Then we got vegan gelato from the place in the Octagon.

Today, I walked 13.8km if my phone is to be trusted.  I walked in the mist to the gardens.  Met up with someone who was looking to make new friends, so then walked around the garden for well over an hour with a very pleasant man who is working out what to do with his life now that his kids are grown.  I am getting to the age where people not much older than me have grown kids.  It was all pretty nice.  I might actually have made a new friend.  Then I walked home through town.  By the time I was walking home it upgrade from mist to full drizzle.  I was a damp Matthew.

And for dinner I got delivereasy of the Taiwanese market gardener's place's soup because I had exhausted myself and my D&D game which is now moved to Monday was cancelled on its first Monday - partially because of the COVID alert rising again last night.  Stupid Auckland having people who have germs again.

I am bad to me.

So, after feeling a bit awful I got into an anxiety spiral about not doing enough toward the move.

In response to this, I declared war on my shitty old chest of drawers.

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It has been annoying me for years with its peeling surface, broken runners and awful degrading chipboard glue smell.  So I boxed up all my stinking-of-old-glue clothes and moved the chest of drawers down to the skip.  Myself.  When my body was already angry at me.

This was a terribad plan.

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I am going to be in SO much pain tomorrow.

Like, seven pain.

I am already having trouble lifting my arms, and my legs are all wobbly jelly. 

I also got a copy of everything off my thesis computer before throwing it in the skip.  It does mean that it has my thesis and my The Sims: Making Magic game on it still, as it sits in a skip waiting to be looted.  Someone may steal my thesis.  I hope it does them good.

I am pretty sure there is no information I shouldn't share on it.  Maybe the English Departments details from 2007.  And I mostly don't care.

Spoonless

 Yesterday I awoke to zero spoons.

All the things I had planned that needed done so I could get rid of stuff while there is a couple of (still basically empty but about to be gone) skips outside my flat.  And I was too full of flare up to even get dressed.

Most exciting thing I managed all day was ordering delivered zucchini kebab, so that I had dinner.  And watching far too much netflix while wedged into the side of the couch not covered in a box half-full of Lego.

My packing is so far behind where it ought be.

Today is also leaning heavily toward achieving nothing.

My thesis computer hasn't been checked and raided for data so I can throw it out.

The awful old chip-board dresser I got second hand when I was 14 has not been emptied out, much less dragged down the stairs to the skip.

Effort is so very much effort.

Scrambled and scattered

Wednesday, I think I may have just sulked much of the day away.  And I had a nurse from my doctors office ring to say I needed to make a doctors appointment in response to the last blood-test results I had.  Appointment was already made and had already gone through that test result set with the endocrinologist.  Showering and dressing on Wednesday only happened so I could go to role-playing, which was cancelled by Carla and Ian still had me over to play Wingspan instead.  So it was a nice evening.

 

Thursday I went and saw my GP to follow up on all the things.  He was very calming, removing all the doom and gloom and pointing out that the risks I was made to feel super bad amount are actually pretty minute differences and stressing about it was likely just as bad.  Having a GP who has also had some serious thyroid issues (and now doesn't have one) makes it much easier to realise it isn't going to be a huge deal.  Though he did point out that if I need the surgery I am going to have a wicked scar.  I think he meant it as a positive, clearly failing to understand my aversion to attention that I haven't specifically requested.

Then the day got weird.

Barely a block from my GPs office, I bumped into Shitlord's best friend who greeted me unexpectedly warmly before telling me I need to visit the restaurant.  When I mentioned I would still prefer to avoid "that other guy" he told me "that other guy" was gone from there, gone from the country, in fact, for months.  I was so happy I had to restrain the urge to try and hug him.  I have spent so much of the last year avoiding town out of anxiety about bumping into Shitlord, and now I know he was one of those cocks who moved countries during the pandemic.  And all without either of us saying his name.

Then only a few blocks later Shitlord's car pulls up beside me being driven by a stranger.  And someone who was not old, fat or ugly, so not someone Shitlord would ever date.  He needs them desperate to put up with how poorly he treats them.  So clearly the universe had picked the day for me to find out the city was safe from my ex.

Friday morning I went to the pool with Midget.  It was pleasant to swim and chat.  First time I had talked to her this year so there was plenty to chat about.  Also spotted someone I went to high school with who I never noticed much at school but who has grown up to be a super hot middle aged man.  Possibly (I have found a couple of other people much hotter than I normally would have since then - I think the Shitlord revelation may be messing with my head (the intrusive thoughts are high and about dumb things)).

Today I went to the movies.  A thing that still feels weird post-COVID.  I saw Rūrangi, it was really good.  And the lead actor was attractive enough to me that I started worrying that the fact I find trans-men to be very handsome statistically more often than cis-men may be problematic.  I am pretty confident it isn't a weird thing, I think it is just that the biological processes involved leads to a slightly higher chance of handsome face.

And then there has been more cleaning of Lego and throwing out of stuff.  I threw out all my holey underwear even if the holes were very minor (I still have more than will fit in the drawer), and did a lazier version of the same with socks (I lacked concern enough to check thoroughly).  And I threw out all my ripped jeans as they had been untouched for years.  In the process I discovered I can fit 88cm jeans again.  The weirdness of my body is making me skinnier below the belt while all the fat migrates to my mid section.

Bigger is not better.

Yesterday morning, after complaining on here that I was awake too early, I went for breakfast at Vogel Street Kitchen with my cousin and her three very huggy children.  I got an all-day-breakfast, which they call a works.  I gave them Lego.  And I had a nice chat to Pen while my sister entertained the kids.  Afterwards my sister walked back to mine and talked at me for a while.

At lunch time my friend Dalton dropped by to chat and return my Pushing Daisies DVDs.   We had some entertaining conversation about people it turned out we both knew.

In the evening I had dinner with Simon, Joe and Firmin.  Nando's as we do.  Then as it has very recently been Simon's birthday we went 10 pin bowling.  I played three games and came third of the four of us every time.  Always scrapping just ahead of the birthday boy and thus making it suck for him.

I was too distracted by the ridiculously hot pair of guys bowling with an unconventional method a couple of lanes over.  They were using a two handed bowl that meant their fingers didn't have to go in the holes.  Made me wish I was coordinated enough to try that sort of thing as my fingers were too sausage-y for most of the balls.  The tall guy who was otherwise a little forgettable has the most amazing arse.  The average height guy was just a generic very hot guy with big pecs.

Then home to depression spiral for no logical reason.

Then this morning I went to my arstenta writing group and then went to meet Claire for lunch at the hospital and I had been called up and offered my endocrinologist appointment being bumped forward at the last minute.  Was good to see Claire, we had a quick look at the UBS moving sale but did not find books we felt the urge to buy.

Then the specialist appointment....

It was about my thyroid tumour, or goitre as they mostly call it (though today she alternated terms).  But having a doctor was also did all the diabetes speciality stuff means I got a lot of diabetes lecturing as well.

The ultrasound revealed the tumour actually has grown significantly since the scan last year, and thus I am going to have to repeat a testy only taken a bit over a month ago and if my results have changed then I will be in for some pretty serious surgery.  For which I was reminded that unless I can get my diabetes back to something more like how it was up until lockdown, then it significantly increases the chance the surgery will end poorly for me.  Death was a heavily suggested by never actually stated possible outcome.

It was not a great afternoon.  I have pretty much just sulked since.

Did you know there is a 5.30 in the morning too?

Muscle cramps lead to being up very early, to the point I gave up on getting back to sleep and was playing on the internet before 6am.

I guess I shouldn't have skipped my berocca yesterday, those B vitamins and magnesium may be important.

Have to head out soon for breakfast with my cousin.  Loading up the last of my spare minifigs from when I bought that box of them, as gifts for my cousin's hellspawn, I realised how much my parents broke my interaction with gifting.  The frequency that my interaction with children involve giving them stuff out of a base assumption that I only have worth as a person to friends/family with kids if I am entertaining their kids with stuff.  I may have issues.  Not sure if they are just straight out hand-me-downs from my dad, who behaves in a similar manner, though I can say if it is for similar reasons, or if it is a reaction to or against my mother's much more 'gift theory' approach to gifting.