One Week Later

A week ago yesterday I went to the doctor. In the last week, things have changed.

Incidences of fighting tears at work have dropped to pretty much nil. Panicked scurrying has decreased as well, along with the inevitable mistakes made while scurrying, which resulted in more panic and more scurrying. Feelings of impending doom have mostly decided to go play in someone else’s yard. (Sorry, someone else.) The doom still tries to come back sometimes, but I’m able to breathe and remind myself it’s not true and after a while it stomps off pouting.

After gaining back nine pounds of what I’d fought for two years to lose–those nine pounds were what made me finally quit dithering and get my butt to the doctor!–after gaining back nine pounds, I am now headed down again. And it’s nearly effortless. One of the potential side effects of my med is appetite loss, but I get hungry plenty. I think it’s the emotional eating that I’m not doing, that’s making the difference. How odd, huh? When the feelings of impending doom are not so serious, I don’t run for an entire sleeve of thin mints in one sitting, and I lose weight. Weird.

My focus is better, and easier to attain, at work anyway. You may guess this also makes things at work much better, so even less need for panicked scurrying or bouts of tears.

Let me just say here that I am awesome at my job. Everyone says so, from my boss (best-est boss EVER and if you argue I will FIGHT YOU) to every single teacher and teaching assistant to the people who wander through from other programs occasionally needing things which I supply pretty much instantly. I’ve been in over my head lately because my school increased students and staff by 50% at the start of the school year while adding more programs at my site who don’t have office staff to assist them and so turn to me, not because I’m not good at what I do.

I’m the office manager, which means I manage myself, and try to manage the director (best-est boss EVER). I keep his calendar, and put things in front of him to be signed, and mostly get them back, usually with the pen I handed him that he tries to pocket. I order and disperse office supplies. I’m also the nurse stand-in (we don’t have one), the custodial stand-in (we have a cleaning service at night, but no one on site during the day), the copier-fixer, low-level IT help, receptionist for five programs when our site is a maze so usually people need walked where they are going (it’s a rare work-day when I don’t walk at least four miles!) and also the door is probably locked and I am the holder of the keys. I’m the reserver of the vans and rooms and the giver-outer of petty cash. I also do all the paperwork for the hab program, so I have random people giving me paper timesheets or faxing me things all week. I’m the one who has to know who hasn’t turned in their timeshets, and I’m the one who nags them. I do their payroll, and check the academy’s payroll. I do the monthly hab time reports, from which we bill the state for services provided. I do the paperwork for the federal school lunch program, I order the food for the academy, and I am back-up cafeteria lady. I unlock the doors in the morning, and most times I am the one who locks them in the evening. And I do it all with a smile, even if my brain chemicals are trying to make me cry.

So anyway. Job getting easier. I’m having problems with sleepiness, though. I get yawning attacks in the middle of the day sometimes that feel like I’m going to pop my jaw off. I crash by a certain time at night, and suddenly I’m dang near incapacitated. I can’t stay up a bit to get something done. I have to go to bed.

And while it’s easier not to panic about writing, actually writing doesn’t seem to have gotten much easier. I know it’s only been a week, but DEADLINE.

So, yeah. News from the front lines, right there. I’ll try to check back in again sooner than a week. Right now it’s past ten so I must go fall over before my head explodes.

<3