I could catch up on lectures while I'm un-fucking the office, or I could rewatch favorite movie from my childhood the 1939 Wuthering Heights starring Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier.
This was probably beyond unhelpful given my baked-in tendencies towards limerent attachment, even as a child. Running around the pasture with my hair blowing wild in the wind pretending I'm Cathy running through the stormy night in the moor after Heathcliff? Sigh. I'm not alone in this, I'm sure. The author of Leaving Season even named her limerent object Heathcliff. And, of course, they're not objects. They're people! And, of course, I've been on the receiving end of this too (at times). So I get it. It's hard, though. Blarg.
Fall break week is almost over, but I've successfully had a day of sleeping (highly recommend), and a day of self-care-ish stuff - which meant going to a gentle yoga class and watching part of the above-mentioned Wuthering Heights. I've been trying to OT myself as regards my left calcaneal tendon. I think there's a micro tear, because it feels like there's a sunburn on the inside and a bump where that little monster attaches to the calcaneus on the lateral side. I've been experimenting with icing, K-tape, and eleves and wearing the one pair of shoes I have with raised heels. I also sighed to myself and subscribed to collagen on the monthly. Not for my skin, for the rest of my connective tissues. I do not want to have surgery. I might still have to but I'd rather...try not to first. Next up: heat and theraband. I do have an ankle brace but I'm not sure it's really doing anything useful.
So: dreams. I had two dreams about T last night. Usually those are kind of...nice. But my brain was in high accountability mode, so they...weren't very. Not scary, exactly, but not nice.
Vignette one: I'm young-ish. I'm living with my parents and feel like a teenager. I have a task and it's to journal through my feelings about T. T is a friend of the family or something, and he's coming around with his girlfriend. He's very kind. Listens. I can't really communicate anything other than schoolgirl worship and infatuation? Those types of sentiments. Very much an older college boy as written by Louisa May Alcott listening to a younger high school girl gushing at him. Gently rebuffing. Saying goodbye. I go back to journaling in a wingback chair by the fire. It's also kind of a theatre space and my parents are around doing...I don't know. 1950s things. I can still see him and his girlfriend. It doesn't feel terrible. But it's not great.
Vignette two: I'm living with L and my parents in our old house in Texas. For some reason I know more about T's life than I really should, including what problems he's tackling at work and opinions on some sort of kerfuffle that's going on at YouTube. In any case he shows up on our doorstep. But it doesn't look like him. I don't question this at first. My parents welcome him with open arms. Through a series of interactions it becomes clear that it isn't him. It's someone pretending to be him. Someone who wants to do the specific things we have planned for that day. The pretender is a little bit sheepish, but not terribly apologetic. It's not clear if he knows T or just assumed that identity. The lingering message is that I should understand why T wouldn't really want to be here. I wake up.
Things are pretty good right now, honestly. I'm getting some cleaning done. I feel okay (minus physical affliction) and my fieldwork went pretty well. I feel the last third of the semester coming at me like a wave. I'm not being dramatic! You're being dramatic! I hope it goes well. I understand how things are getting more complicated; they're trying to ease us into an environment that more closely simulates a work environment.
Cleaning today and wandering the Bo(o)tanical Gardens - hopefully with K. Then a last-minute birthday party tonight. Volunteering for the Fall Carnival tomorrow afternoon after work. L chose my costume this year. I wanted to be Coraline or The White Queen from Alice In Wonderland but they were all sold out of those. Instead I'm Disgust from Inside Out 🤣
I should also probably finish catching up on lectures from the last few weeks and get some homework done with L.
Ah, well. C'est la vie.
Happy Halloween.
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