Lots of memories...
Aug. 21st, 2025 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
A few days ago Ask A Manager posted stories of co-workers overstepping their expertise.
And I guess this is not quite the same thing but I had a massive flashback to That Morning of Hours I Will Never Get Back when the whole library staff had a session with an outside consultant.
I am honestly not sure what the rationale was for having us give up an entire morning of our precious closed period - during which we did all - well, seldom actually all, but as many as we could manage - of those essential backroom housekeeping tasks which cannot be undertaken when the place has actual readers coming in and USING THE COLLECTIONS dammit.
Possibly we had either just undergone, or were just about to undergo, one of the restructurings of which I saw many during my years there, distinct from the physical relocation upheavals.
But anyway, consultant.
Had consultant been briefed? Had consultant done any due diligence about what sort of institution this was?
Okay, did know it was a LIBRARY.
Had not the slightest apprehension that this was a world-renowned RESEARCH collection and that, you know, we were not lending out books and stamping them with return dates (I am not sure that this practice, by the date in question, even pertained in public libraries).
We were sitting there cringeing and wincing, wondering when it would all be over.
Were we not very restrained by not going, in huge chorus, in the manner he would doubtless have anticipated we learnt as part of our professional training, SSSSSHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUSSSSHHHHHH!!!!?
I can't seem to face up to the facts
I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax
I can't sleep, 'cause my bed's on fire
Don't touch me, I'm a real live wire
Spicy pillow, qu'est-ce que c'est?
Fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa, far better
Run-run, run-run-run away
Oh-oh-oh
I knew editing at that pace wouldn't be sustainable, and was firmly in "make the most of it while it lasts" mode but man, I've been struggling with the post-high crash. I know, I know, that "being at your 100%" looks very different on different days, and it felt like I was running at like 140% for a while on top of that but damn. The difference is crushing, and I get frustrated enough to tear up. I'm not sure if it's because the first half of the year was so bumpy and it left me more brittle, or because it's so rare that I get a writing high from editing rather than drafting but gaaah. I just remember my first NaNo, the only one I won back in 2006, and how creativity seemed to just feed off itself... like I was writing so much, all of the time, that when a couple of strange little events happened I ended up writing a couple of short stories about them too, on top of my 1.6k words a day. Glorious times. And during the lockdowns I was writing during my lunch breaks, too. Even if not quite at that level of intensity, I'd love to catch that spirit again, and on days when I can have several intense, focused writing sessions, it feels like getting closer. I probably need better systems. Mornings are fine, I have a good routine in place and that time is mostly under my control, but later in the day I struggle and flail to even catch 15 minutes of focused writing time.
I'm not depressed or anything, and I'm still editing for 15-30 minutes a day, sometimes even one hour! Progress is progress! But it still feels like I slammed into a wall I now have to slowly climb with my bare hands and nails, when I was the Road Runner going Meep Meep! and grinning wildly for a while here. And the wall is wet and slimy and it smells weird too XD
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Signal boosts:
The thing about buying new glasses, right, is that I've been feeling avoidant about it in part because I think I was slightly migrainey the day I had the most recent test done and I was already pretty sure that my vision goes... wrong... when migrainey -- most noticeable when moving, but always... there.
Slightly more specifically: it's neither scintillating scotoma nor loss-of-whole-field-of-vision nor any of the other very classic visual auras; instead it's a sense that I'm not managing to track movement properly along the lower edge and especially the lower corners of my field of vision.
... which matches up really well, actually, with the peripheral vision deficiencies that, er, showed up during my last eye test.
I've been noticing the Weirdness on-and-off for quite some time now, and was dithering back and forth about whether it was just confirmation bias in that I was only noticing it when otherwise migrainey -- but then on Monday, while on my way to my GP surgery to pick up some paperwork, it resulted in the railings I was going past (and that I go past regularly!) causing an extremely pronounced and unmistakeable strobing effect. I am very confident that that is not something I would somehow manage to confirmation bias myself out of noticing most of the time, so, hurrah, Definitely A Migraine Symptom (for lo, on Monday I was migrainey) it is.
The thing that is mildly baffling me is that I can't actually find (admittedly on a fairly cursory search) any description of specifically peripheral vision fuckery as a migraine thing! Lots of mentions of tunnel vision, lots of mentions of classic aura, and one case study in which "peripheral vision" is used metaphorically. So, you know, let the record show, &c.
What I read
Finished Dragon Harvest.
Read the latest Literary Review.
Read Angela Thirkell, What Did It Mean? (The Barsetshire Novels Book 23) (1954), which, I depose, is the one where Ange, sighing and groaning, realised that she was going to have to write The One About The Coronation, like what everybody else was doing. (The title alludes to a cryptic prophecy by one of the local peasantry.) So there is a fair amount of phoning it in, but on the other hand, some Better Stuff than one might expect for that period of her output.
On the go
And it's back to Lanny: Upton Sinclair, A World to Win (Lanny Budd #7) (1946), in which WW2 is raging but so far, USA is not in it and Our Hero can still pootle about Europe under the guise of being an art expert while mingling in very elevated company indeed.
Up next
Once that is done, I should probably turn my attention to the very different WW2 experience of Nick Jenkins in the next one up for the Dance to the Music of Time book group, The Soldier's Art.