Christmas Wishes - Or Whinges

I am quite bereft today, since the universe has a sadistic sense of timing. My popularity - which waxes and wanes worse than the moon does - always seems to be at a high when I can't take advantage of it. Yesterday I had to turn down four invitations for company and socialising. FOUR. My brother and SIL wanted me to come down to Worthing along with mom, to see them, my SIL's mother and my utterly beloved nephews, one of whom made a surprise Christmas return from Australia, where he's been for the last year, following a year in Asia. All in all I haven't seen Jay for two and a half years and I'm gutted to be missing him right now. And Craig, who I am every bit as fond of as Jay, is probably missing my cakes - family occasions are the only times he breaks from a strict diet (he's studying sports sciences and is a bit of a health nut) and I'd promised applesauce cake and Swedish chokladbollar and maybe Moravian Sugar Cake.

Ugh.

My friend Sasha, who I haven't seen in a year and a half because she's been in Russia amongst other places, wanted to get together and talk about men - which, y'all will know, is something I'm always willing to do. Adam wanted to do movie night - we've been trying to set a date to watch the first and second Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies for months now, and our schedules never seem to match, and on the few occasions they do we've ended up doing something else entirely. And Siji, my ex from Manchester, is in London visiting his family for Christmas and wanted to hang out. I haven't seen him for over a year either.

And I am stuck in bed with flu. I came down with it Christmas morning, and thought it was a cold, but now I've progressed to the aches and fever. I feel vile. Mom is down at my brother's - praise the Lord, two days where I don't have to look after anyone's needs but my own! - and I'm too sick to make the most of it. I had so many plans to beat the post-Christmas gloom. Nazia and I were going to go shopping at Stratford Westfield - I need to go to Victoria's Secret, and I wanted her opinion on the Phase Eight dress, since I finally have enough money to buy it but still feel awful spending £79 (the sale price!) on a dress so I need coaxing and telling that it looks perfect. And I had tickets for ice skating at Canary Wharf that I got from wowcher or groupon or one of those places - normally I can't afford the Christmas skating rinks - and was hoping to drag Siji along.

To put into perspective how awful it felt for me to turn down four invitations, the last social thing I did (ie not class - although we did bring food and drinks on the last lesson - or shopping) was Thanksgiving dinner with mom and Curt, my BFF. I think that was the 30th of November. The time before that was the first week of Nov, when Adam and I went to the fireworks display. The time before THAT was Chrissie's birthday party in July or August, before the surgeries.

I'm not the social butterfly type, particularly when I'm sick or recovering from illness, as I was all autumn. I occasionally joke that I'm more like a social moth - while you're all out there being gregarious and sipping nectar and looking pretty and making the world bright, I'll be off in a back room banging my head against the light and eating your clothes.

But I do occasionally feel the need to see people - even I get tired of work and school and reading - and it bums me out no end if on the few occasions people want to see me, I have to turn it down.

No point to this post, I'm just whinging.

That all said, being stuck in bed does make a girl appreciate the slinky-but-comfy nightdress from mom and the awesome books from various people and the totally banging slipper-boots from Chrissie (pics to follow) all the more. :)

Shards of Thought

Sometimes the things I have to research for this job depress the hell out of me.

And other times...other times, the logical scientist part of me, the part that's cut off from any emotional feelings I have about the stories I hear at work, the part that makes Dr Chris use terms like "depersonalization" and "derealization"...that part is nearly as intrigued by the effects of tragedy on human psyches as it is heartbroken that such things happen at all.

And I feel like there's something deeply wrong with me, that I'm almost as fascinated as I am appalled.

...yeah.