I’m not a patient person. I’ve learned to adapt, to curb my anxiety of ‘not knowing’ what comes next, over the years. And by that I mean that I seem calm to most of the people I interact with when I’m really screaming in my head.
The EMG test was…interesting. I can’t say I’d want to get one again, but understand why they ordered it. Now I get to wait until Monday morning to find out results and what comes next.
Right middle finger, which is the worst for trigger finger, was stiff and sore this morning. I’m still able to type (obviously), and it’s not so bad that I’ve taken tylenol…but I do have a small bottle in my purse just in case.
I’m off early this morning. After work, there’s some chores I’ll have to do. One of those is getting a holiday gift for my hubby. Taking my son with me so I have some help/muscle getting it home.
I’ve also discovered my stalker has been catfishing me across more than one social media platform. I’m less surprised than I should be, and vastly more disappointed in them. How hard is it to give someone space when they request it? I don’t believe I know everything about the life of my friends and acquaintances. I understand things go on that they don’t share with me. I don’t take that personally because I don’t demand to know every single detail of their lives.
Like most, 2020 has not been a good year for me. There’s been some wonderful things, yes. But the visual of a trash dumpster on fire is pretty accurate. Stress level is high, anxiety is as well. I’m not going to ignore my needs and add a log onto the bonfire just because someone else tells me I have to.
This is my life. Not theirs. I get to decide who is in it.
I’m about to head out the door to work. I’m hoping to get some writing in later today, hands willing. Thia, Jinaari, and the rest of the Hobos have been left hanging long enough.