23 October 2023

I could go into a ramblyrant like I’ve done the past several entries, or maybe I’m being paranoid and that all hasn’t actually been that ranty, but that bores even me after a while and I’m trying to organize my thoughts and intentions, so we’re going to take this in another direction.

Point the first:

I’ve decided to put my legal proofreading training on long-term hiatus. It is foolish in the extreme to not finish the course as I’ve already paid for it in full, but there’s also the risk of spent-cost fallacy. I’ve barely worked on it at all, and I am pretty sure I bought it in 2020. If I’m wrong, I bought it in 2019. It was that long ago. If I haven’t fucking finished it by now, I’m not sure I will.

I thought about signing up for the general proofreading course instead, from the same company, but they won’t let me trade in one course for the other course and I am not willing to shell out another multiple hundreds of dollars (at fifty percent off, which they recently had a flash sale in that vein, it’s still over three hundred dollars for the lowest-rung basic course) only to not finish. It’s idiotic.

I found out the Chicago Manual of Style costs less than $50, hardcover, latest edition, at Amazon. I know from my participation in the student support group that that’s the style manual used by the graduates of the general course. I may invest in that and then see what I can get up to at Fiverr or Upwork on my own. If I start proofreading at all, that is likely to be how I do it. If I’m “having to succeed by trial and error,” at least I’d be succeeding.

This may not be a permanent decision. It’s too soon to tell. There is too much else going on.

Point the second

One of the reasons I want to put the training on hold is I need quick cash, and I can get $200 out of one of my books related to the course and another $100 out of two other books. They will also wind up being three fewer heavy things I need to shift when I move. So I need to list those in the group shortly. I have a fourth book I can also unload, but that’ll probably be $20 at best. Still, better than nothing. I could hypothetically continue the course without those books, so this isn’t the only reason I’m putting the course on hold, but it’s a big one.

Point the third

I’m going to take some time tonight and work on bits of this site, most notably here. It’s sat idle long enough. If I get bored with that, I may work on Rory’s stuff some more. It’s been a while. Possibly work on something else too; I haven’t decided yet. Let’s burn that bridge once we’ve crossed it.

In other news, Dad’s in the hospital again. His landlady and long-time friend Jodi has been keeping a close eye on him with her daughter’s help, and they saw him fall, but didn’t see the extent of his possible injuries. He certainly wouldn’t ‘fess up — he views such concern as unnecessary fuss — so they called an ambulance to be safe. Whether we get DT festivities with him again will depend greatly on how long the hospital has him under observation. I told Carrie last week that he needs to be in the veterans’ home, and she sort of hemmed and hawed about it, and likely doesn’t have authority to make that decision anyway. But it’s still true. Jodi and her daughter have their own lives, much as I appreciate them helping, and he needs to be near actual medical care, which they would have in a nursing home. I told Doug that the only reason Dad hasn’t gone there yet, even though he arranged things already and has a place there, is because they very likely won’t let him drink. Doug couldn’t find fault in my theory. That is a stupid reason to not ask for help. When I thought years ago that the man might drink himself to death, I never imagined it would be in this fashion.

I don’t know why this hasn’t put me completely off alcohol in any way, shape, or form, but weirdly it hasn’t. I rarely drink, though, so that isn’t saying much.

I never did contact him after he got out of the hospital last time. Haven’t wanted to. I can’t predict how he will behave, and I have no patience left for him acting like everything that ever goes wrong in my life is just me being bad. I simply do not have the energy left to stabilize myself emotionally after yet more setbacks because the people who are supposed to love and support me want to attack me instead, either directly or from the back. I don’t mean that he has to rubberstamp everything that I do or everything that happens to me. He doesn’t have to agree that I always do everything right. What he needs to do if he wants a relationship with me is to stop attacking me. That’s all. I am experiencing the natural consequences of my actions. They suck. I got the universe’s message loud and clear. The universe has not appointed a deputy to administer additional beatings, verbal or otherwise. End of story.

And that goes for anyone else. If you want to be offended that I try to protect myself, if you want to call me a bigot for telling the truth, if you want to cozy up to my enemies because they tell you what you want to hear even when that’s bullshit, you’ve made your choice but you don’t get to stay in my life too. That is not negotiable. I’ve had enough. I am not an unreasonable person. (The fact that you are now laughing says that you are, however.) If you ever get over yourself and want to make things right, not just bribe me with stuff or bullshit me with more nonsense you don’t mean, hey, I’m here. I’m an easy find. Speak up. But I’m done chasing people who just want to be hateful. Too much energy wasted to accomplish fuck-all.

I said I wasn’t going to rant. I don’t think I am yet, but I’ll leave that there. I’m sure I’ll address that subject again sometime. More than once.

Okay. I feel like I wanted to talk about something else, but now I don’t remember what it was. It probably doesn’t matter. Keep an eye on the other page ’cause stuff will be there soon.

[edit] Oh, yes. Right. This wasn’t what I had been meaning to talk about, if anything (I could just be imagining that I wanted to talk about something else), but I have this new weird thing happening. There are times I change position between standing and sitting that I get this weird pain thing going on, up my back somehow. That sounds weird, but I don’t know how to describe it. It’s a radiating sort of pain, and not severe, but it’s… different… enough that it makes me pause and catch my breath anyway. I think so far it only happens when I go from standing to sitting. It’s like everything’s settling back down, but in an ouchy way.

I should also add there’s this weird lump in my back just to the right of my spine. It is not a big lump, but if I rub the general area back there I can feel it, and there is not a corresponding lump on the other side so this is not me mistaking a body part for an anomaly. That’s been there a while. Months at least. I never thought to mention it in any venue until now and, well, I’m already grousing about my health, so there you go.

The thing that went on previously that I thought could potentially be a kidney stone seems to be done, whatever it was. I did go on magnesium, a formula that contains three different magnesium compounds including citrate, and magnesium citrate is supposed to help kidney stones. So if I had anything in that vein whatsoever, maybe I’ve knocked it down. No idea.

Interestingly, it was on the same side as the lump is. I don’t know if that’s significant. The pain wasn’t in the same place though.

Random other pains in the past few weeks that were likely my stupid fibroids acting up.

Foot thing a while back, right foot hurting when I’d walk around Meijer after a day delivering, but that may just be me pounding too much pavement. I replaced my shoes at the end of last year or beginning of this one but maybe it’s time for a new pair. I used to make one pair last five years or more. I suspect those days are done. I am probably the least shoesy woman you will ever meet, barring women who don’t have feet. I own two pairs at the moment and that has got to be some kind of record. And the other pair are only meant to be step-outside shoes. They’re sandals and too big for my feet and I got them to feed the farm animals while Elizabeth was out of town with Pat months ago. I couldn’t find boots that would go on my stupid derp feet, so opted for beach sandals because both they and feet wash off. I was once accused of being “resourceful” by a case worker. I suppose sometimes I am.