The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly
The week in review:
Now there's an overly used phrase if there ever was one. Well anywho, let's start with the good shall we? On Tuesday my replacement Asus V9980 arrived after having ordered it from another store. That reminds me I need to check that the previous store have refunded my credit card. The new card works just fine and performs very well indeed. Waiting three years before upgrading my graphics card has been very much worth the wait.
On Thursday, my Doom 3 box arrived which meant I had the game a day before the official UK release date. If you've not heard of Doom then you're not gonna be interested in reading me ramble on about it. Come to think of it, same would go for those of you who have heard of it; so I won't. I can't be bothered in any case.
Tomorrow ((Saturday)) I'm head off Portsmouth way again, though this time with my father. We'll be collecting junk that my grandfather has gathered from the house of a recently deceased friend and bringing it back to Tavistock for a charity sale or something. That or the dump. Should be nice to spend a day with Dad.
The bad? Work. Enough said really.
We're left with the ugly then. After having returned to work on Monday and being so overwhelmed with the return of feeling so unwell, I made an appointment with my doctor. I had that this morning and without going into too much detail, he's concerned that my stress will soon turn to being panic attacks. I'm now listed as an urgent case for counselling.
Not my cup of tea to be honest with you. I was assigned a psychologist when I first went into hospital back in 1998 and she was a nasty piece of work. Her goal was to find any possible psychological reason for my paralysis ((other than that I suffer with TMS, which is a spinal disease)) because she probably had nothing better to do. Well as with any stereotypical shrink, she blamed the illness on my parents. Stupid bitch. Purely by chance we've come across other patients that she was assigned to over the years and they all say the same thing. She's a stupid bitch. Heehee...
So whilst I'm not looking forward to it, if it helps at all then that'll be something. However, being told how to cope and deal with something that I've done very well to survive for four years now, doesn't really seem worth the while. The problem lies within the office, not me. In the end, only leaving will resolve all this.
Now there's an overly used phrase if there ever was one. Well anywho, let's start with the good shall we? On Tuesday my replacement Asus V9980 arrived after having ordered it from another store. That reminds me I need to check that the previous store have refunded my credit card. The new card works just fine and performs very well indeed. Waiting three years before upgrading my graphics card has been very much worth the wait.
On Thursday, my Doom 3 box arrived which meant I had the game a day before the official UK release date. If you've not heard of Doom then you're not gonna be interested in reading me ramble on about it. Come to think of it, same would go for those of you who have heard of it; so I won't. I can't be bothered in any case.
Tomorrow ((Saturday)) I'm head off Portsmouth way again, though this time with my father. We'll be collecting junk that my grandfather has gathered from the house of a recently deceased friend and bringing it back to Tavistock for a charity sale or something. That or the dump. Should be nice to spend a day with Dad.
The bad? Work. Enough said really.
We're left with the ugly then. After having returned to work on Monday and being so overwhelmed with the return of feeling so unwell, I made an appointment with my doctor. I had that this morning and without going into too much detail, he's concerned that my stress will soon turn to being panic attacks. I'm now listed as an urgent case for counselling.
Not my cup of tea to be honest with you. I was assigned a psychologist when I first went into hospital back in 1998 and she was a nasty piece of work. Her goal was to find any possible psychological reason for my paralysis ((other than that I suffer with TMS, which is a spinal disease)) because she probably had nothing better to do. Well as with any stereotypical shrink, she blamed the illness on my parents. Stupid bitch. Purely by chance we've come across other patients that she was assigned to over the years and they all say the same thing. She's a stupid bitch. Heehee...
So whilst I'm not looking forward to it, if it helps at all then that'll be something. However, being told how to cope and deal with something that I've done very well to survive for four years now, doesn't really seem worth the while. The problem lies within the office, not me. In the end, only leaving will resolve all this.
posted by Matthew E Cornish at
21:00
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