Update... and a rant filled with swearing. Sorry. Don't read if easily offended...

So, for those who are interested in the variously interesting but mostly boring details of my life...

I was offered the job I really wanted on Wednesday afternoon, probably not too long after posting my last post, haha!

However, still fighting off this stupid ear infection thingy and wasn't really into much typing. Just up and down from resting to listlessly looking at Facebook, as if it might offer me some company, while I was home alone - fevery and miserable, unable to eat - with my son away visiting his dad for a few days.

Ugh, I am not often so sick and it was kinda scary and mostly sad being alone while I felt so crap. Creepy, too, because my cat would sit with me and everytime she'd hear a noise, she would become super-alert, listening to what it was (she was also hoping every night it was Boy Child coming home from his late shifts at the movie theatre. Poor kitty. Poor mommy!). Creepy because I either couldn't hear the noise at all with my blocked up ear or I could - faintly, but not to tell what it was. Was it someone trying to break into my house? UGH. Hard not to feel vulnerable when you're, well... vulnerable. Fevery, confused and weakish. Gross.

So it was a very nice thing to hear the friendly voice of the manager calling and asking if I would like the job! Also, apologising for taking an extra day to get back to me, but that they had to get ahold of my references - who LOVE me. In fact, she began quoting a couple of things she'd written down from the references like "Exceeds expectations". Yay, me!

I am SO amazingly excited to not only find a job that meets my difficult current needs plus suits my qualifications and interests... it also pays pretty darned well. In fact, with my last two jobs, I'd say I've gone up around 30% in hourly wage each time! (That's a rough guesstimate, but whatever!). That's from the 3+ years ago since I hurt myself.

Considering this, I don't think it's fair that workers' comp continues to pay based on what I was making at the time of injury. OK, I can see why in a way, but they're only bound to make up what I'm not able to make, I think. If I can make nearly as much now in around half the time... well, my experience has improved my position but my wage loss is moot! Does that make sense? Probably not entirely, but I hope you get what I mean... ugh, head still not totally clear.

OK, if I made 800 beans* per month (work with me here) at my old job for 30 hours per week, but I'll be making 680 beans per month at my new job for 14 hours per week... I've not increased my total income, but made massive gains in my hourly wage. Make sense now? Oh, crap, I've made it worse, right?? (*Note: beans do NOT translate into dollars, Canadian or otherwise, by any reliable means. Just trying to give a rough example. Probably pretty rough. Don't ask me to do math reliably when sick. LOL.)

Anyway, back to the job! So, I will start next week. It's just 14 hours per week (that's two days) as a job share position, which is about all I expect to be able to handle at this point. Note I say expect. Fact is, I'm kinda scared, really. Scared of the stress of just working (getting to/from, the long day that's not that long to most people - two, 7 hour shifts/week) increasing the pain, scared that I have nothing left to give up in terms of "spoons" (see The Spoon Theory if you're not familiar). In fact, a while ago, in order to bring friendships into my life (nearly non-existent since my injury and subsequent development of CRPS) I realised that something had to 'give' for me to do so. I just didn't have enough energy/hours in the day.

And that's what the spoons represent: energy/hours. I might have enough hours to do it, when you realise "Oh, she's only going to be working 14 hours per week." Sounds like 3 days left to clean the house, see the doctors, physios, do my stupid exercise regime (which I've become convinced are not doing much of anything - the stretches are helpful, though), be a mom to my son when he's around... maybe have some alone time... hell, have a 'special' relationship, maybe?

Uh huh. Then you begin to factor in the need for more sleep. A LOT more sleep. And then there's the days when you're in extra pain and it's a 'write-off' - i.e. you're on the couch, watching TV reruns, trying to distract yourself from the pain... not exactly productive. It's not cleaning my kitchen, that's for sure.

IF I'm 'lucky' I'll be able to get through the two back-to-back days (they asked my availability, I said I was 'free' - I shoulda thought that better, but wanted to have a chance at this). I mean, assuming the other person whose job I'll be sharing probably wants to not have 3 afternoons off per week, but two real, whole days. And really, spreading 14 hours into 3 days probably just means I'm tiring myself out THREE days per week, by the time you get there and all...

This will mean that those 2 days will involve all my will and strength to get to work on time and level-headed, keep my pain managed well enough to get through the whole day while serving my clients with the care and service they deserve and get myself home safely and make sure I rest well. It will not leave time to make dinner that involves much effort, might mean no visiting people those nights... and it may well mean that I spend the next day or 3 recuperating from my 2 days of work.

I'm freakin' terrified because having some new friendships in my life has been what's kept me going. Having the energy to spend an afternoon or evening with a friend once every week or two tends to mean that the housecleaning that I *might* feel up to doing, doesn't get done.

Sure, I know. I'm sure I could manage a little here and there. Frankly, maybe I'm just lazy. OK, I kinda hate housework, but while I'm not a 'neat-freak' I prefer not to live as a slob, either. If I lived on my own, it might be easier, but there's a 17 year old male here who still finds every thing 'extra' I ask him to do like some sort of torture. In fact, he told me recently that I don't do anything, that I expect him to do everything and I'm just using CRPS 'as an excuse'.

{warning, cursing and swearing begin here. sorry.}

FUCK, I hate teenagers, man. WTF? I thought I tought him better than that. He's revelling in his carefree life (which is angsty teen-time sometimes; they're so 'emo' these days, ugh) as well he should be. But I'm sorry, I didn't ASK to be injured while I was doing my fucking job! And doing it damned well, thankyouverymuch! I sure as fuck didn't ASK to have some bizarro pain disorder that no one can see, and many don't BELIEVE in, happen to me and oh YEAH, it may be like this for the rest of my damned life! FAAARGH.

So, yeah, while I'm being "lazy" and enjoying MY carefree and definitely pain-free life, I laze my days away watching soap operas and having an affair with the milk man... whatever.

And I feel like a big fucking failure because my house is messy. Hell, there's still a few unpacked boxes but after EIGHT months of living here, I've now got bunny-sized dust bunnies growing around them and other stuff growing near them like fungus (note: not actual fungus, just mean junk accumulates more junk around it). But I've been BUSY since March, 1st with the hospital pain program, then the next month at the workers' comp version. BTW the hospital one was 3 afternoons per week and they recommended that you being with just the class then add other things so as not to overdo it. Ahem. The other program was 4 hours per day, 5 days per week. "To tolerance", they assured me, but it rather seemed that you were expected to be there. And that 4 hours was the program and then they figured you'd take a leisurely hour-long lunch. Really, to me that just means I'm out for another hour in my day... when I'm not resting or cleaning those dust bunnies, which have been breeding... like bunnies.

I spoke to the occupational therapist about this at the program. She asked about things around the home and I told her I just wasn't doing anything because being there even 3 hours per day was exhausting. I was having increased pain anyway coming in, then add more activity and poking and prodding... plus messed up sleep from meds... and on and on and on...

When was I suppposed to find all this time and energy to keep my house as sparkling clean as I know it's 'supposed' to be (and let me be clear: right now, I'd be happy with tidy-ish and clean kitchen and bathroom on a regular basis.).

I can recall having a similar dilemma while a single working parent with a younger child - i.e. doing more full-time mommy stuff. Working an 8 hour day, plus travel time, including child care to and froms, etc. etc... Oh, yeah, on my two days off I ALWAYS felt like getting up early and spending the entire two days cleaning and doing laundry! Yeesh. SOME women do this and I say "Good for you, sister! Can you bring your boundless energy and a mop over to my place when you're done? I could use a hand!"

Yeah, ranting calming now. Sorry again.

So, back to the job. Workers' comp will be thrilled, I'm sure. Yay, less money we have to shell out! And she's made an effort. WOW. OK, people, so while I'm out participating and making contributions to society, can someone contribute to cleaning my bathroom and mopping the floors? The look pretty clean, but I haven't done it since we moved in 8 months ago (just the kitchen and bathroom!) and they could use a wash. Ew.

And I just don't think that, despite the great hourly wage, my 14 hours per week is gonna get me far with hiring a cleaner to do what I cannot manage myself.

I'm scared I won't be able to manage the job with the pain and the hours, let alone worrying about my increasingly sloppy house to which I've become reluctant to allow people to visit...

SIGH. Why does it always have to be this hard?