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Like. When we talked about who this new lady is, and I asked my very hungover questions about her, there was some light joking about how my previous therapist was not going to say anything about the fact that I am being picked on by a chaos god, and is instead just going to throw this woman to the wolves with a simple "good luck." But we'd talked before, several times in various degrees of seriousness, about how I occasionally have these feelings of not being a real person. Not in a dissociative sort of way necessarily, but more in a "my life is dictated by the whims of a coked-up Channel 4 sitcom writer" sort of way.
Which is all a very long-winded way of saying MY CLOSET IS FULL OF WATER AGAIN. Yesterday morning, I unplugged the fan that was left here over the weekend to dry everything out, and last night, I stepped in there just to be sure, and sure enough, the floor was wet. Not the sopping great puddle of water it was when we first noticed it, but definitely a problem. I only thought to check at all, because the toilet had started running again, which was odd, because it had definitely been fixed when the guy left on Friday. He fixed it. I saw with my own eyes that it was fixed. It was not doing that. So we still have giant, plastic bins piled up in the way, and I've already put the ticket in for the maintenance on the water heater which frankly could have waited anyway, and I still don't know where the roof goblins have gone. The longer they wait to finish up, the more nervous I get about not having a roof, because the rain is supposed to come back next weekend. Meanwhile, we're looking at temps in the low-mid 80s again over the next few days, which should be fucking illegal for October.
Mostly, I'm grumpy and annoyed because I had to wake up at 7am today, not for all this, but to go to a doctor appointment that quite literally could have been a phone call. The only saving grace about the whole thing is that it was at the hospital, which is three blocks away, and I got there early enough that they were able to get me in early, so I got out before my appointment was even scheduled, so I got home about ten minutes after the appointment was supposed to be. The appointment was a follow-up for my procedure back in August, to let me know that they didn't find anything, which I already knew because they'd already told me that, and to tell me that my stomach problems are diet related, which I also already knew. The whole thing was basically to get what I suspected was IBS charted and documented, but one casual remark about losing weight turned into a full-GI cancer screening from hell that I'm sure I probably needed to do at my age anyway, but definitely not all at once, and not quite so frantically. But it's done. It's all clear, so that's behind me and a stress I don't have to deal with. And now I'm sat here, too tired and annoyed to get any work done, and waiting for the man from the building to come back and fix my apartment for the second time in less than a week.
Which is all a very long-winded way of saying MY CLOSET IS FULL OF WATER AGAIN. Yesterday morning, I unplugged the fan that was left here over the weekend to dry everything out, and last night, I stepped in there just to be sure, and sure enough, the floor was wet. Not the sopping great puddle of water it was when we first noticed it, but definitely a problem. I only thought to check at all, because the toilet had started running again, which was odd, because it had definitely been fixed when the guy left on Friday. He fixed it. I saw with my own eyes that it was fixed. It was not doing that. So we still have giant, plastic bins piled up in the way, and I've already put the ticket in for the maintenance on the water heater which frankly could have waited anyway, and I still don't know where the roof goblins have gone. The longer they wait to finish up, the more nervous I get about not having a roof, because the rain is supposed to come back next weekend. Meanwhile, we're looking at temps in the low-mid 80s again over the next few days, which should be fucking illegal for October.
Mostly, I'm grumpy and annoyed because I had to wake up at 7am today, not for all this, but to go to a doctor appointment that quite literally could have been a phone call. The only saving grace about the whole thing is that it was at the hospital, which is three blocks away, and I got there early enough that they were able to get me in early, so I got out before my appointment was even scheduled, so I got home about ten minutes after the appointment was supposed to be. The appointment was a follow-up for my procedure back in August, to let me know that they didn't find anything, which I already knew because they'd already told me that, and to tell me that my stomach problems are diet related, which I also already knew. The whole thing was basically to get what I suspected was IBS charted and documented, but one casual remark about losing weight turned into a full-GI cancer screening from hell that I'm sure I probably needed to do at my age anyway, but definitely not all at once, and not quite so frantically. But it's done. It's all clear, so that's behind me and a stress I don't have to deal with. And now I'm sat here, too tired and annoyed to get any work done, and waiting for the man from the building to come back and fix my apartment for the second time in less than a week.
