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dragonlady7Today I go into work at 4. This is the closest thing to a day off I'll have before Pennsic. Tomorrow I'm 9 to 5, Sunday I'm 12 to 5, and I plan to be gone Monday morning, so I've got precisely today to finish up the sewing I have to finish before I go. (I will be bringing A LOT to hand-sew there, but I can do hand-sewing there and not mind it. Er, maybe. We'll see. But machine sewing has to be done here.)
And my fabric scissors are gone.
I have a set of four. One is embroidery scissors, too small to cut fabric with. But then there are 1) long straight-bladed scissors, 2) a pair of short-bladed thick shear types, and 3) a pair of slender bent-bladed scissors, suitable for cutting fabric against a flat surface.
I was stuck with 3) for a while, as the shears had been misplaced somewhere between the back porch and the living room (my two workspaces), and 1) had gone missing ages ago, carried off somewhere as scissors get to be.
But 3) has inexplicably disappeared. I let Fi use them, but she was sitting about two feet away from my workspace on the floor, and swears she handed them back to me. I have excavated all the various piles of fabric (which is organized, I swear to you) and have hunted through every surrounding cranny, every little accumulation of belongings and just plain mung, and they are no longer in the area. Nor are they by either of the two sewing machines (the non-functional one or the semi-functional one), or on the chair or coffee table or anywhere in the vicinity.
So I cannot do any work.
I have sent Fi out (well, she was going out anyway on errands) to buy me another set of sewing scissors. Because I know how these things work: I will not find these scissors until I have replaced them. That is simply how it works.
Ha ha, I just hurt myself sneezing.
I am also stressed-out because the big boss has been having a rough time at work and thus has been extremely sarcastic to me of late, and I'm not sure what I can do about it, but last night I was seized with an overwhelming sense of the ridiculousness of my situation after I was again sent snidely back out to deal on my own with a situation I'd come into the back to ask for help with, and found myself on the verge of tears. Look, I am a reasonably intelligent woman of not inconsiderable life experience at this point; I do not ask for help if I am equipped to deal with a situation on my own, unless I know that the person I'm asking it of wouldn't mind giving it. There's no point crying over it, but it is utterly, utterly demoralizing to have it assumed that I'm a complete lazy idiot. I prefer to be busy than idle; time passes more quickly, and I find satisfaction in completing tasks. Since I'm obviously not in this line of work for the money (I'm making about what I made as a waitress, in 2005, before tips), the satisfaction is kind of all I get. So when he assumes that any uncompleted tasks are not completed for no good reason, it kind of impugns what little sense of self-worth I still have.
It's still ridiculous to get upset about, but in my current state I don't have a whole lot of time or space to apply perspective or logic. I'm not much use to society but at least I can make people happy by printing their fucking* pictures well and promptly. It's all I fucking have.
_________
* Sometimes literally. Yesterday's sole highlight was not so much a highlight as a moment of horror. Oh my lord, some people have strange cares. Well, that was a first, anyway. No wonder he was so particular about getting them all printed five by seven and glossy.
And my fabric scissors are gone.
I have a set of four. One is embroidery scissors, too small to cut fabric with. But then there are 1) long straight-bladed scissors, 2) a pair of short-bladed thick shear types, and 3) a pair of slender bent-bladed scissors, suitable for cutting fabric against a flat surface.
I was stuck with 3) for a while, as the shears had been misplaced somewhere between the back porch and the living room (my two workspaces), and 1) had gone missing ages ago, carried off somewhere as scissors get to be.
But 3) has inexplicably disappeared. I let Fi use them, but she was sitting about two feet away from my workspace on the floor, and swears she handed them back to me. I have excavated all the various piles of fabric (which is organized, I swear to you) and have hunted through every surrounding cranny, every little accumulation of belongings and just plain mung, and they are no longer in the area. Nor are they by either of the two sewing machines (the non-functional one or the semi-functional one), or on the chair or coffee table or anywhere in the vicinity.
So I cannot do any work.
I have sent Fi out (well, she was going out anyway on errands) to buy me another set of sewing scissors. Because I know how these things work: I will not find these scissors until I have replaced them. That is simply how it works.
Ha ha, I just hurt myself sneezing.
I am also stressed-out because the big boss has been having a rough time at work and thus has been extremely sarcastic to me of late, and I'm not sure what I can do about it, but last night I was seized with an overwhelming sense of the ridiculousness of my situation after I was again sent snidely back out to deal on my own with a situation I'd come into the back to ask for help with, and found myself on the verge of tears. Look, I am a reasonably intelligent woman of not inconsiderable life experience at this point; I do not ask for help if I am equipped to deal with a situation on my own, unless I know that the person I'm asking it of wouldn't mind giving it. There's no point crying over it, but it is utterly, utterly demoralizing to have it assumed that I'm a complete lazy idiot. I prefer to be busy than idle; time passes more quickly, and I find satisfaction in completing tasks. Since I'm obviously not in this line of work for the money (I'm making about what I made as a waitress, in 2005, before tips), the satisfaction is kind of all I get. So when he assumes that any uncompleted tasks are not completed for no good reason, it kind of impugns what little sense of self-worth I still have.
It's still ridiculous to get upset about, but in my current state I don't have a whole lot of time or space to apply perspective or logic. I'm not much use to society but at least I can make people happy by printing their fucking* pictures well and promptly. It's all I fucking have.
_________
* Sometimes literally. Yesterday's sole highlight was not so much a highlight as a moment of horror. Oh my lord, some people have strange cares. Well, that was a first, anyway. No wonder he was so particular about getting them all printed five by seven and glossy.
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Date: 2009-07-24 04:03 pm (UTC)So I was really relieved to see that your post ended before the anti-boyfriend essay.