to nap or to write?

To nap or to write?

I woke up twice during the night. The first was to pee. I had a text from my niece and waited for her to respond for an hour. When she didn’t, I went back to sleep only to wake up at 430 with shoulder pain. It took me a while to settle it down. Sitting didn’t help so I had to take a BT med for it. I had a couple of messages on my phone so I checked that while waiting for the med to work. I finally fell asleep around or a little after 6 am. I shut off the med alarm so I could sleep. I woke up around 10 and took my meds. I didn’t feel like getting up but I had to pee again. My appointment with my therapist was at 1pm so I went back to bed to sleep. I had set my alarm for 1240 in case I was still sleeping. I woke up at 1230 and quickly made a cup of coffee. I had just brought the coffee to my room when my bladder said it had to go so I went back downstairs again. Fucking a. I didn’t cath and I swear when I don’t cath, I go every 2-3 hours.

Therapy went well. We talked about my anger I have for being disabled and not being able to work. I miss my job. I could do the work of three people and was respected in that other departments would call on me to work on problem samples. My favorite thing was sendout specimens that were knew due to research articles that were just written but weren’t available commercially yet. I liked the people for the most part though I had a few that bugged me every single day with the sample problem, different patient. It was annoying. There were days I wanted to change my name as everyone seemed to have a problem with something. I was the go to person, even though I wasn’t a supervisor or senior person (on the books anyway). I knew the system backwards and forwards because I was there so long (14 years). It angers me that my supervisor didn’t pull for me to have a position where I could sit and type and do minimal things. Before management became so involved in the workings of the lab, I probably could have stayed on and done those things. But they played by the fucking book and because of my restrictions, I was forced out on disability. The supervisor, who wanted me back, is the one that didn’t accept my restrictions. I am angry at him for forcing me out.

I am tired. I didn’t know if I was going to write or nap. I chose writing. I am so damn tired. I had another cup of coffee after therapy. I guess waking up twice in the middle of the night pays a toll on being tired the whole day. I want to get the recycle out of my room but I haven’t had the energy to do it yet. I still haven’t showered or brushed my teeth. I think I might do this (shower and brush my teeth) before bed. The recycle can wait another day.