Job
Ain't got one. I was on a four month contract at The Job Which Shall Not Be Named, and I was fully expecting to get a variation of 'don't let the door hit your arse on the way out!' on my last day. So imagine my complete and utter bafflement when I was asked by my boss to stay on. Huh. Maybe I wasn't the world's most hilariously underqualified and useless employee. Would have been nice if someone had mentioned that to me at some point while I was still employed there - that may have stopped my from hiding in the toilet in tears, convinced at my own uselessness, on what got to be an almost daily basis.
However, I truly despised that job, so rather than deigning to accept the offer I told my boss to cram it with walnuts, and I flounced out the door, pausing only to give him the finger and dispense a few choice insults amongst my former colleagues. I'm kidding of course. Though there was a small amount of flouncing. What I did do was go to the pub with D and the Hair Hamster, and get nicely sozzled. We had a very long, very boozy lunch, during which we cackled immoderately and were very bitchy. Then we went back to the office and spent the rest of the afternoon looking at this website and giggling like the drunken idiots we are;
(click the picture for more)I think my ex-boss was genuinely surprised that I didn't want to stay, but I don't think I could have taken another day of it. It wasn't a bad job, and it wasn't especially difficult, but Heavens to Betsy it was tedious. I ended up so utterly stressed out by trying to fill the painful hours between 9 and 5 that I literally could not eat during the day. I always thought people who claimed to be too busy or stressed to eat were full of crap, because I pretty much live for food. But for the last four months I have been getting by on toast for breakfast and crisps and wine for dinner. I haven't started looking for another job yet, though I have started sorting out my resume today, and I plan to start the job hunt over the next few days.
Hair
Either it's slowing down, or I'm freaking out about it less, but either way I'm feeling better about the hair thing. I went to the doctor to get checked out, and he couldn't think of any good reason why I should be losing my hair, so he tested me for everything - 'I am throwing the book at you, young lady' were his exact words. I got my results, and everything is normal. Better than normal. I'm practically the bionic freaking woman, especially considering how appalling my diet has been lately, and that I haven't eaten meat in six months and have a more less vegan diet these days. Iron - awesome, cholesterol and blood pressure - exemplary, hormones, thyroid, vitamin levels - normal, normal, normal. Huzzah!
But doctor, why oh why is my hair falling out? His reply was '....ummm....stress? Yeah, probably just stress.' Because my hormone levels are normal he's pretty certain that it's not female pattern baldness - he thinks it's telogen effluvium, and he said that things could be back to normal within a year or so. Which seems like a very, very long time when handfuls of hair are falling out everyday, but it feels a lot better to be able to put a name to what's going on. The problem is that one of the triggers for telogen effluvium is stress. Guess what makes you stressed? Your hair falling out! Which causes more hair to fall out and so on ad absurdium. So I'm basically just trying to get myself back on track now. I'm having a sober month, I'm eating veggies til they come out my ears* and walking every day, and I'm starting to realise how tightly wound I have been lately. I was reading a book review the other day, and this quote from the book really struck me;
I was nothing but tension. . . . I brushed my teeth ferociously, as if I wanted to file them down. I yanked on my socks as if determined to thrust my toes right through them. . . . When I pushed a command button, I did so as if it was my personal strength that must send the elevator to the sixth floor, or raise the door of the garage. While I shaved I tensed my jaw, while I read I tensed my throat, while I ate (too fast) I tensed my forehead, while I talked I tensed my shoulders, while I listened I tensed my neck, while I drove I tensed everything.
That could be me he's describing - I had a tiny panic attack in the pub the other night, which hasn't happened in years, and my shoulders have been hovering around the level of my ears for weeks now. So the plan for the immediate future is to calm - the - fuck - down and get myself together (by the way, don't think I'm not aware of how appallingly middle class and privileged my problems are, because I know that 'I'm feeling a bit stressed' is pretty much the epitome of a first world problem, but I'm not going to apologise for that). To whit and thusly, I will be reading Game of Thrones, practising my Spanish grammar (there's something unexpectedly soothing about the mindlessness of conjugating**) and spending a lot of time pottering about in the kitchen.
OK, so that's the updated version of things at the moment. I have a story about a BBQ, and another one about seagulls and crazy ladies, both of which I will get to soon. Until then, you must wait with bated breath - can you stand the excitement!?
*which may point to a more serious medical problem than that of my hair falling out
**that's what she said
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