Gillian Polack's Blog, page 132
December 29, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-30T14:16:00
I am well and truly virussed. I'm keeping most of the symptoms at bay and getting lots of dream-filled sleep. There are two times to get sick, one is when one has a break and the other is when One has all kinds of urgent deadlines and had intended to go to the sales and do the new computer thing. All I can do is sleep and read. Today is better than yesterday in that I can read a bit more. It's worse in that I can't sit up for long, much less do simple stuff like stand up and stretch. My body demands I spend 55 minutes of every hour lying down. And the weather feels as hot as it did yesterday when, in fact, it's ten degrees cooler. I'm drinking much water and resting a vast amount and treating the symptoms as they manifest and wondering how I got the thing in the first place.
December 28, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-29T18:51:00
What I *meant* to post about today was how very stuck I am on sorting out my computer needs. I need a new computer for this one is almost dead, but haven't progressed too much further than that and the fact that it has to be compact (but not a notebook, for I have a netbook) and must do all kinds of office things and that I also need a multifunction printer. And that it must last a few years and be inexpensive. All these things. Not greedy at all, am I?
gillpolack @ 2012-12-29T16:22:00
When it became rather obvious that I was not going to get much done today at all (that this morning was a blimp and not a blip), I decided to nap, to encourage my unwellness to find its way out of my body. I'm hoping this is a 24 hour bug, but I fear it might last a bit longer. One of my neighbours left the front door open again and so I ended up with fever dreams in thirty degree heat.
My favourite sequence in the dream was when there was a very odd recording of Carmen. I was listening to it with a couple of other people. It was more a recital in a living room than a performance and I don't know why my brain chose Carmen, for it's not at all suited to a small-scale quite recital, but there it was, in my brain, in someone else's living room, on the television. We were trying to find more of it on ancient records, and then my dream detoured in several places, including digging up the driveway and filling it with springs and coils.
Finally, we settled back to listen and the opera sang out again. This time it wasn't Carmen (but it was definitely Bizet) and I puzzled over it.
"You know this?" asked someone in my dream.
"I do, but I don't think it's Carmen. I'll remember it in a minute."
"I have the words. I'm a singer. Can you find me the place?"
I failed miserably. His libretto lacked music and was all in modern Hebrew and we were speaking in English.
"They're singing in French, "I pointed out. "I can understand the French and I can read the Hebrew, but I can't make them match."
I looked at the Hebrew again and it wasn't pointed and I realised I was dreaming, for I can't read unpointed Hebrew well (ie I can hardly read it at all) and I marvelled at the power of dreams for I was actually reading it, word by word and it made sense. Then, because I'd reminded myself of the paucity of my Hebrew, it stopped making sense.
"Stupid dream brain," I scolded and woke up to thirty-one degrees and wondered at my neighbours' common sense.
Why am I telling you this small section of a very long and convoluted and musical dream? Well, it's a very neat metaphor for my life right now. I need to do more rehydration, so I'll let the curious work out the metaphor for themselves.
PS Carmen is not one of my favourite operas.
My favourite sequence in the dream was when there was a very odd recording of Carmen. I was listening to it with a couple of other people. It was more a recital in a living room than a performance and I don't know why my brain chose Carmen, for it's not at all suited to a small-scale quite recital, but there it was, in my brain, in someone else's living room, on the television. We were trying to find more of it on ancient records, and then my dream detoured in several places, including digging up the driveway and filling it with springs and coils.
Finally, we settled back to listen and the opera sang out again. This time it wasn't Carmen (but it was definitely Bizet) and I puzzled over it.
"You know this?" asked someone in my dream.
"I do, but I don't think it's Carmen. I'll remember it in a minute."
"I have the words. I'm a singer. Can you find me the place?"
I failed miserably. His libretto lacked music and was all in modern Hebrew and we were speaking in English.
"They're singing in French, "I pointed out. "I can understand the French and I can read the Hebrew, but I can't make them match."
I looked at the Hebrew again and it wasn't pointed and I realised I was dreaming, for I can't read unpointed Hebrew well (ie I can hardly read it at all) and I marvelled at the power of dreams for I was actually reading it, word by word and it made sense. Then, because I'd reminded myself of the paucity of my Hebrew, it stopped making sense.
"Stupid dream brain," I scolded and woke up to thirty-one degrees and wondered at my neighbours' common sense.
Why am I telling you this small section of a very long and convoluted and musical dream? Well, it's a very neat metaphor for my life right now. I need to do more rehydration, so I'll let the curious work out the metaphor for themselves.
PS Carmen is not one of my favourite operas.
gillpolack @ 2012-12-29T11:12:00
Today is the day of the slow start. I made coffee without coffee and appear to have developed the sniffles. The brain is also slow. And kitchen sink is the slowest of all.
I want to go back to bed and sleep until it's all past, for I am exceptionally sleepy, but I have stuff to do.
The insult to injury today is that Facebook suggested I friend my stepfather. I miss Les, but that doesn't mean I want to friend his ghost account.
ETA: It appears I am unwell. Not an extreme virus, but an uncomfortable one. This explains the slow start to the day and the slower continuation. I have a sink plunger, though, thanks to Donna.
I want to go back to bed and sleep until it's all past, for I am exceptionally sleepy, but I have stuff to do.
The insult to injury today is that Facebook suggested I friend my stepfather. I miss Les, but that doesn't mean I want to friend his ghost account.
ETA: It appears I am unwell. Not an extreme virus, but an uncomfortable one. This explains the slow start to the day and the slower continuation. I have a sink plunger, though, thanks to Donna.
December 27, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-28T13:35:00
I've behaved very nicely today. I've edited a chapter and read an Aurealis book and gone with my friends to the art gallery and done a *bunch* of shopping. I shall take a break and then do some more of the work side of things. All this makes me sadly boring to be round, but far less worried.
The gallery visit was for the Toulouse-Lautrec exhibition. I love his work, but found his view of life surprisingly depressing and very clear once I'd seen a large assembly of his art. He and Jarry both had miserable visions. I need to find out if they contributed towards each other's, if Toulouse-Lautrec influenced Jarry, or if that glorious period of Parisian history really was so full of despair.
It also got me thinking about the popular favourites in any industry. Toulouse-Lautrec drew them and did posters about them and it struck me that without watchers, the Bruants of our world remain unseen part their little circles of current fame. They are important in the instant, when they make some types of art viable and they are lionised, but in the long term, art is more likely to remain. Even then, only a few artists and writers are remembered. More artists and writers than publishers and impresarios, though. I suspect this was supposed to be a reassuring thought, but it isn't really.
I also want to make a pun about the other Toulouse (Toulouse-l'autre), but I shall sternly refrain, for today is too serious for such frivolities.
The gallery visit was for the Toulouse-Lautrec exhibition. I love his work, but found his view of life surprisingly depressing and very clear once I'd seen a large assembly of his art. He and Jarry both had miserable visions. I need to find out if they contributed towards each other's, if Toulouse-Lautrec influenced Jarry, or if that glorious period of Parisian history really was so full of despair.
It also got me thinking about the popular favourites in any industry. Toulouse-Lautrec drew them and did posters about them and it struck me that without watchers, the Bruants of our world remain unseen part their little circles of current fame. They are important in the instant, when they make some types of art viable and they are lionised, but in the long term, art is more likely to remain. Even then, only a few artists and writers are remembered. More artists and writers than publishers and impresarios, though. I suspect this was supposed to be a reassuring thought, but it isn't really.
I also want to make a pun about the other Toulouse (Toulouse-l'autre), but I shall sternly refrain, for today is too serious for such frivolities.
December 26, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-27T14:22:00
This afternoon I'm taking a couple of hours and watching animated Star Trek while sorting a rather messy drawer. I've done as much as I can tolerate on the drawer right now, so it's time for coffee.
I didn't get a lot more stuff done last night, but I did enough. I'd rather be ahead of things, but I'm OK. Mostly, the cool weather means that my body is slowing down and pain is easing and symptoms are easing and I'm sleeping a lot. I guess I need a holiday. I guess I'll keep on dreaming of such things and get back to work. In the meantime, there's Star Trek and much other DVD goodness to keep me from fretting. Tomorrow they go back to their owner and I get to go to the art gallery with Rachel and Mia and we go shopping. See, holiday!
PS No, today is not terribly exciting. Why do I feel as if I must apologise for this? Right now I'm editing a chapter on Medieval religious systems, just in case you were wondering.
ETA: My day just got more exciting. Word sulked and decided to corrupt my file for no reason whatsoever.
I didn't get a lot more stuff done last night, but I did enough. I'd rather be ahead of things, but I'm OK. Mostly, the cool weather means that my body is slowing down and pain is easing and symptoms are easing and I'm sleeping a lot. I guess I need a holiday. I guess I'll keep on dreaming of such things and get back to work. In the meantime, there's Star Trek and much other DVD goodness to keep me from fretting. Tomorrow they go back to their owner and I get to go to the art gallery with Rachel and Mia and we go shopping. See, holiday!
PS No, today is not terribly exciting. Why do I feel as if I must apologise for this? Right now I'm editing a chapter on Medieval religious systems, just in case you were wondering.
ETA: My day just got more exciting. Word sulked and decided to corrupt my file for no reason whatsoever.
December 25, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-26T18:57:00
I have earned Dr Who tonight. I have a (really bad) first draft of one of the troubling items for December, and have finished the whole of another whacking big task. That's one item I had to do this month done entirely and another with only three hours work attached. Plus an Aurealis book read and another begun. If I can only do another book review tonight and maybe finish a second Aurealis book, I shall be a lot less worried about the next week.
My brain fog disappeared for much of the day - and oh, what a difference that makes!
Mind you, my sink is still a mess. That drain is perfect then it gets imperfect again with no warning. It's nothing I do, either. It's a mystery. Still, I'm one and a half tasks down today, which is a Very Good Thing.
My worry-of-the-day is that people are making assumptions about me having time out in January and February and are landing work on me without checking (those of you who ask are entirely different - no worries there!). If this keeps on happening then a busy two months is going to turn into a nightmare one.
I think the only thing I can do from here on in is to say things like "I know you need this done, but you'll just have to wait until late February. If you need me before then, you possibly could have checked earlier." It's quite possible that the two lots of paid work won't come through in January and I'll have time for more unpaid work, but I find it concerning that people assume that I can do their voluntary work during my normal work day simply because *they're* on holiday.
I had two sensible requests in the last two days (ie the friends asked me if I could do stuff and were willing to wait for a time that suited me) and two big assumptions ("You are doing this by within these dates, for everyone else is."). I have taken all of this on board and will do it, but have reached my limit. Everyone other bit of work for January must have pay attached, must help me towards a uni job, or must be accompanied by a polite request and very persuasive reasons.
My brain fog disappeared for much of the day - and oh, what a difference that makes!
Mind you, my sink is still a mess. That drain is perfect then it gets imperfect again with no warning. It's nothing I do, either. It's a mystery. Still, I'm one and a half tasks down today, which is a Very Good Thing.
My worry-of-the-day is that people are making assumptions about me having time out in January and February and are landing work on me without checking (those of you who ask are entirely different - no worries there!). If this keeps on happening then a busy two months is going to turn into a nightmare one.
I think the only thing I can do from here on in is to say things like "I know you need this done, but you'll just have to wait until late February. If you need me before then, you possibly could have checked earlier." It's quite possible that the two lots of paid work won't come through in January and I'll have time for more unpaid work, but I find it concerning that people assume that I can do their voluntary work during my normal work day simply because *they're* on holiday.
I had two sensible requests in the last two days (ie the friends asked me if I could do stuff and were willing to wait for a time that suited me) and two big assumptions ("You are doing this by within these dates, for everyone else is."). I have taken all of this on board and will do it, but have reached my limit. Everyone other bit of work for January must have pay attached, must help me towards a uni job, or must be accompanied by a polite request and very persuasive reasons.
December 24, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-25T17:29:00
I keep explaining to friends in the northern hemisphere that it's summer here, but today I wonder. It's my kind of day and I'm enjoying it, but right now it's under fifteen degrees outside. I'm taking advantage of the quiet and cool and bringing the temperatures in my flat to something quite reasonable, which will mean the next wave of heat will take longer to make itself felt.
The fibro symptoms are less today, which makes me suspect that heat is a factor and that I might have to look for cooler places when the real hot weather hits. Mind you, I did half my basic housework yesterday, so maybe I'm just lucky and getting better faster than last time. This won't last if I don't take the right tablets, however, and I just realised that I am due some, so, en avant!
Other news, there is none. I'm just putting off doing any work at this moment.
The fibro symptoms are less today, which makes me suspect that heat is a factor and that I might have to look for cooler places when the real hot weather hits. Mind you, I did half my basic housework yesterday, so maybe I'm just lucky and getting better faster than last time. This won't last if I don't take the right tablets, however, and I just realised that I am due some, so, en avant!
Other news, there is none. I'm just putting off doing any work at this moment.
gillpolack @ 2012-12-25T12:50:00
Today my meals are terribly exciting. Lunch is rice porridge, for I have some coriander and some pickled mustard greens and I dreamed of the friend who taught me how to make rice porridge (a Malaysian -Australian friend). Dinner is hokkien noodles with shallots and mushrooms and maybe a bit of tempeh. Easy food, for I did my dash yesterday. I have more spoons than last week, but I still don't have vast numbers.
Last night I had Christmas food with friends. Turkey and lamb and salad and vegies and pudding and much chocolate and port. The port was a 1991 Rutherglen vintage port (Pfeiffer's). It was a totally lovely evening. I'm not used to such big meals, though. When I came home, all I was good for was watching The Almighty Johnsons and Star Trek. The air was too dense to sleep. I didn't care. I'd spent a gorgeous evening with close friends and played with one of the sweetest toddlers I've ever met.
And so today it's all easy food and gentle work. I'm chatting with
ratfan
online at some stage and that's my days' excitement. I'm watching animated Star Trek and the first season of Stargate in between work.
I so dread this time of year, but some years are bad and other years are delightful. When I was so very sick, being alone and unfestive was quite awful. This year, on the other hand, is so far very lovely. I'm seeing enough of friends to keep the wolf from the door and I'm doing enough of seasonal things so that I'm not looking through the window. I have delightful presents, some for Chanukah, some for this week: a stocking (my first old-fashioned stocking ever, filled with carefully-selected goodies), Once Upon a Time Season One, Game of Thrones Season One, Eureka season 4, a calendar, bookmarks, a paper snowglobe, a cherub ornament, a t-shirt, a drinkbottle. And I have cards!
Thank you, everyone, for putting up with me when I was facing the dread of this season. I don't face it gracefully, for it's tied in with the nearly-dying thing just a few years ago. Thank you especially, all the wonderful friends who have thought of me.
May I wish you all a good festive season if you celebrate and a very fine (but different) week if you don't.
Last night I had Christmas food with friends. Turkey and lamb and salad and vegies and pudding and much chocolate and port. The port was a 1991 Rutherglen vintage port (Pfeiffer's). It was a totally lovely evening. I'm not used to such big meals, though. When I came home, all I was good for was watching The Almighty Johnsons and Star Trek. The air was too dense to sleep. I didn't care. I'd spent a gorgeous evening with close friends and played with one of the sweetest toddlers I've ever met.
And so today it's all easy food and gentle work. I'm chatting with
ratfan
online at some stage and that's my days' excitement. I'm watching animated Star Trek and the first season of Stargate in between work.I so dread this time of year, but some years are bad and other years are delightful. When I was so very sick, being alone and unfestive was quite awful. This year, on the other hand, is so far very lovely. I'm seeing enough of friends to keep the wolf from the door and I'm doing enough of seasonal things so that I'm not looking through the window. I have delightful presents, some for Chanukah, some for this week: a stocking (my first old-fashioned stocking ever, filled with carefully-selected goodies), Once Upon a Time Season One, Game of Thrones Season One, Eureka season 4, a calendar, bookmarks, a paper snowglobe, a cherub ornament, a t-shirt, a drinkbottle. And I have cards!
Thank you, everyone, for putting up with me when I was facing the dread of this season. I don't face it gracefully, for it's tied in with the nearly-dying thing just a few years ago. Thank you especially, all the wonderful friends who have thought of me.
May I wish you all a good festive season if you celebrate and a very fine (but different) week if you don't.
December 23, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-24T14:49:00
My fortnightly BiblioBuffet article is up. Today it's a bit of serious and a bit of fun, because that was my mixed mood when I wrote it. You can find it here: http://www.bibliobuffet.com/bookish-dreaming/1877-armchair-travel-122312
