This arrived at work today, the first magazine for one of my birthday presents to myself this birthday month: a Faerie Magazine subscription.
I also bought the Faerie and Mermaid handbooks by Carolyn Turgeon (And Grace Nuth et al for The Faerie Handbook) of Faerie Magazine and they are exquisite but I shan’t be reading those until my birthday.
I am very glad the magazine was in my pigeonhole today, because I am still sad, demoralized and disheartened by work-related matters that happened yesterday. I am daily reminded this is not a good environment for me and that I will never be enough. But one needs a job, and a salary — and as far as salaries and other job perks go, I really can’t complain. So, keep my head down, do my job. Besides those things people chase after like promotions and whatever imaginary carrots on the stick help them feel superior would likely bring me no joy. I’d rather be engrossed in my passion projects and I don’t need fancy titles to have faith and joy in myself. My sleep schedule was a bit wrecked because of what happened yesterday but thank God I fell asleep by 1:10 am (sez fitbit) and woke by 6am. That’s the latest I’ve been up in three weeks. Usually I am comatose by 11pm but mostly by 9-10pm. So I am currently operating on 4 hours sleep. At least being upset by work did not keep me up all night this time. There’s hope for me yet. There were times when toxic machinations caused me not to sleep for over 48 hours. I’m determined not to let work kill me. So focus on the small things and try not to be seduced into Stockholm Syndrome again. It’s good to be compassionate but also know when to call a rusty spade a spade.
I continue to be productive– I was pissed off enough yesterday that I delivered my Alaya Dawn Johnson article ahead of schedule. I’ve submitted three academic articles this year, and one chapter. I’m fixing to deliver another this week and submit my NK Jemisin paper next week. And there’s the monograph proposal which — I get cheels of terror and excitement every time I think about it. So there’s that. People at work can devalue and pass over me as much as they like. I know my worth, I know my value, I possess my own personal power. And I will work extra hard to ensure these things are not diminished.
In other news, whatever stage of bereavement happens after the first three months of alternating between grief, dazed denial, numbness and actually thinking you’re happy because you’re numb and focusing on the small things? I’m in it. I was going to stay at same hotel this time around for my birthday, mostly for self-care. But I couldn’t do it. The future is uncertain and I don’t want to deplete my savings. And I keep thinking about the terrible fight I had with my Dad over the phone the first time I stayed there. He kept wanting me to spend my birthday with him. We did have a belated birthday celebration together last year. I didn’t know it would be the last. I am going to miss my father my whole life.
So. I’m just going to do the self-care thing low-key. I’ll be working — and working out. And now, back to work.
Listening to: Eye of the Needle — The Divine Comedy