Pursuit of Busyness

NOT, of course, that I've been pursuing the breathless life. Rather, that it's been chasing after me with relentless fervor.

At work, I'm tremendously short-staffed: we'd be overwhelmed even under our normal workload. But on top of that, we face (a) losing a huge chunk of our budget and our personnel in a month or two, with no decrease in the level of security or services we provide; (b) a large security capital-improvement project; (c) several ships coming and going ("Port Services", which my division provides); and (d) the commissioning of the Coast Guard's first National Security Cutter, for which I'm providing security. We're expecting over 2000 guests, some very high-level. Oh, and I'm scrambling to update a couple of manuals before our commanding officer rotates in a few weeks.

So at work, where I "only" work three days a week, I'm constantly tied up in meetings, or putting out fires, or doing the work of the petty officers I don't have, working from around 7 or 7:30 am to around 5 pm daily. That doesn't count the commute, which including walk, train, and shuttle, clocks in at around an hour each way. At a meeting yesterday, another attendee asked if I could meet up with them today. I said, "Sorry, I have chemo." They paused, then asked, "How about Friday?"

Now normally, Friday is a recovery day. Where I don't work. But this Friday, I have two appointments - with the radiation doctor to check in, and then for my PET/CT scan (hopefully cancer-free!). Yeah...like I'm going to go running off to work to clock in somewhere in the middle of all that. Then the person asked, "Is there anything I can do to help out?" I felt like responding, "Yeah, don't task me with anything!" I ended up having to take a few projects home, where I was up working for about 3 or 4 hours after I got home Wednesday night, until 10:30 pm.

It's been impossible to keep up with my mail, my voicemail, my emails, my laundry or ironing, or even trying to eat the food in the fridge so it doesn't spoil. (It doesn't help that I either feel sick, or the food tastes waxy, or "off", or I just have no appetite. On the other hand, it makes for a very effective weight-loss program.)

And, I just found out yesterday that my roommate's moving out. She loves sharing a place with me, but she's between jobs and found another place nearby for $500 less. I told her she had to manage the whole process of finding someone new - I'd just make the final selection. So we have an open house this Saturday.

All of this would, of course, be made much easier if I weren't losing hours each day to feeling totally terrible. For example, Monday, where upon my arrival at work I had to curl up on my little (very hard and uncomfortable, prison-industries) sofa in my office, still in street clothes, clutching my knees and praying hard that I wouldn't puke. For an hour. Then it took another hour in the bathroom in my office before I was finally ready to face the world.

I'd be a hell of a lot more ready to take on the world if I weren't sick at the same time. Yeah. That was a bit of wry humor...