Fucking Infections!

Yeah, I know. I'm not around much. I have a life, y'know? Looking for a new job, which isn't going terribly well. Nobody wants to hire a 24-year-old with fibromyalgia and no real qualifications who's never worked anything that was both permanent and full-time.

I have a throat infection, that I picked up from my rat of a lodger. Yes, we have two new ones now. The one I picked up the infection from speaks NO English, so I'm having to learn Italian (Come sta? Non troppo bene. *sigh*), and although his sister - who lives here - speaks good English, she hasn't managed yet to convey instructions to him. Like, Don't go near Sati when you have an infection. Or, Don't use her blue dishes, those are for Christmas and dinner parties.

Or, for that matter, make sure you flush the toilet.

Men!

Now I know that's not a fair comment to make, but there do seem to be an astonishing amount of men around - at least of male lodgers - who don't think it's necessary to flush. I don't know if it's a male thing or a cultural / national thing (maybe in hotter countries you're supposed to save water? Even though you'd think that hygiene would be MORE important if it's always warm, but...ehh) or if we've just had bad luck getting lodgers with no sense of cleanliness. *shrug* He seems good enough at washing the dishes and keeping the bathroom relatively clean, so it mystifies me even more.

ANYway, he gave me this thing which I thought was going to be a cold, but it seems to be a nasty strep throat type thing. Hasn't gone to my lungs, touch wood, but my throat is agonizingly painful.

The other lodger's from South Africa. Tribal SA, not White SA. I can't remember what he said his tribe / language is called, although he did say it was one of those clicky-sounding ones. i.e. ones that I'll never learn in a million years. He seems nice, although he only moved in day before yesterday, so time will tell.

The Italian guy's probably nice too, I just can't understand him well enough to be sure. But either way, I'm glad the lodger problem was sorted that quickly. We had a lot of calls, actually. Heaps more than we usually get. There was one boy called Patrick who I adored, and was hoping that he'd take one of the rooms, but he ended up getting something closer to work. I think he might go to my gym though, I've seen someone who looks like him there, and when he met me for the first time (here) he seemed to recognize me. Although I can't be 100% sure; I don't wear my glasses when I exercise, and I don't have contacts yet, and anyway I'm always so caught up in my body and the music that I don't notice much.

Three ear infections and a throat infection in the space of a month...not having the best luck right now. *rolls eyes*

I did my first hour of cardio at the gym. Which is good, since an hour is what I was hoping to work up to, and then stay there for a couple months.

Did it, and then promptly dislocated my shoulder, but I don't think that had anything to do with the exercise. It was strange, I was just reaching back between my shoulderblades while I was in the shower, and it popped out. What surprised me most, aside from the fact that I actually did it in the first place, was that it wasn't all that painful. Oh, it hurt quite a bit, but it wasn't the immense screeching pain I was expecting. So I just yanked down and out the way they taught us to do in first-aid class, and it popped right back in.

I feel a bit bruised today, but I don't know if that's due to the shoulder or the fact that MY MOTHER CRASHED MY CAR THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY. Yes, my beautiful car, my almost-perfect-condition MX-5 now has a scrape along the whole passenger side, and the door has a huge dent and will probably need to be replaced. I know I shouldn't complain, because frankly I'm lucky to be unharmed - if the other driver had hit us at an angle 5 degrees different, I probably would be lying in a hospital bed right now, if I were lucky. But my car...I have spent the last three years keeping that car looking beautiful, and shiny, and generally having the pride of ownership that a person should have. (And before you start berating me, get off your high horse, I'm not saying that a person should be more proud of things than personal qualities, just that my car is a beautiful item and should be treated as such. I don't get a whole lot of nice things, because we're poor, and I think that if you're lucky enough to have nice stuff, you should treat them with respect - ESPECIALLY when you still owe two years to the bank on them.)

So I've been so nice to my car, and even though it's coming up 19 years old, it's always been in good condition. Just needed the standard repairs - new tires, new brake pads, etc. And now it has a huge great chunk out of it.

Nobody was hurt though, except me, and that was just bruises. At first I thought I might have cracked a rib, but it seems to be getting better already, so I guess it was just a bump.

Hell. Strep throat, ear infection that's just getting better now, car crash. My car's in the shop, and I can't understand my lodger, and I can't find a job, and I can't afford to go to college this year, and about the only good things that are going on are my gym workouts. Cute gym guy number 1, the one I thought might be called Chris, is just gone. Kaput. I don't even know anymore if I actually saw him or if he was a figment of my imagination. But cute gym guy number 2 is still cute as ever, and his name's Tyrone. Ain't that just the coolest name ever? And cute gym guy number 3, I don't know his name, but I heard him speak for the first time the other day, and I think he's Australian. Which makes his already significant hotness go up to three times what it was, since I really have a thing for Australian accents. And in addition to these fine specimens of manhood that I get to watch surreptitiously, there are a bunch of other people - mostly men, but some women - who are all really nice to me, and smile and occasionally chat when I'm in there. Because I - yes, I, Sati Marie Frost, the Most Unlikely Candidate Ever, am now a gym regular. Hear that? Not a weekend exerciser. Not a Monday guilt-tripper. A regular. Hah. It's so surreal I can't quite believe it.

I think that's all, aside from the fact that Oli's back in a few days, and I'm praying to god that he still wants to know me.

So there's my news, and once again what was meant to be a short post saying "Go away, I'm not well and don't want to write right now" has evolved into an actual news bulletin. Hope everyone's doing okay, and enjoying the autumn. I hope that I get better soon, because fall is my favourite season, and I'd really like to get some enjoyance in soon.