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Queasiness
The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly.
-- Henry David Thoreau
Thursday, October 28, 1999
One year ago: "Topless" Bar
Two years ago: First Impressions
I only worked a half day today. I started feeling queasy, so much so that after html-izing one stock article, I left the rest for my coworker to do. I was tempted to do some errands on my way home, but felt bad enough on the drive that I headed straight home.
I spent the afternoon in bed, dozing on and off. I was startled (but luckily awake) when the exterminator came in! Our building has a service where the apartments are treated with some sort of roach birth control on a regular basis. All he did (after apologizing for the intrusion) was to squirt some of this in the bathroom and kitchen.
I managed to miss the Republican candidate's Q and A on public radio, sleeping through most of it. I'd have turned it off, except that I like to have the radio on! My only project was to get some of the laundry put away, which I managed to do most of. I amused myself by putting on items of clothing that have been in the pile, but that I don't normally wear: an Indian gauze skirt from Value Village, blue metallic thigh-high stockings (this pair fits, yay!).
* * * * * * * *
Arguing, unpleasantness, people yelling -- I don't like it! Not many actually crave that sort of atmosphere, but even when not directed at me, I'm disturbed by it. I remember being perturbed by my sixth grade teacher losing control and yelling at the class, even though I knew that I wasn't one of the people in trouble. I'm not so delicate now (see last week) but I still feel it.
Sometimes I feel hurt even if someone is specificly trying not to hurt my feelings. A journaler thought that I was trying to tell zir what to write, when I commented on something in a recent entry. Zie said zie was holding back from what zie would normally reply, but it was still pretty sharp. I felt like my hand had been slapped!
In an even more extreme example of me personalizing when I shouldn't, a well-known web writer goes through periodic episodes of being displeased by what people say on a discussion group that zie hosts. Now, I know this person is volatile, prickly, and the comments weren't directed at me at all, so I should have just moved on to the next bookmark, but we've communicated before. So I tried to express how these periodic outbreaks make me reluctant to post to the group sometimes -- I have a hard time predicting when the storm is going to break! I wanted to say something because I think the storms are part of what make the discussion group content displeasing to the group owner, since only those who can tolerate them hang around. But even that I didn't communicate well; I could tell from zir response to me, which was curtly baffled. "Nervous about posting? don't post!" (my paraphrase)
Thankfully I'm not upset by the latest two-day discussions on diary-l about spanking, fat-hating, and other controversies. I just keep deleting ninety five percent unread!
I'll feel better tomorrow, I know.
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