bending_sickle | So you know what the future holds now?* (Reply)

So today I tried to call the doctor to make an appointment (instead of yesterday, which is when I should've) because they said they were open "every day", making no mention of weeks and weekends. The first time I called (after even getting dressed to go out, because I'd do anything to put off making a phonecall), there's a recording in Dutch giving various phone numbers and saying something about, "Out for lunch, back at 2." I called again at 2 and got a different recording saying how they were closed on weekends, and I could call this number if it were an emergency.

So now I don't know what to do, whether to hold out until Monday and pray they can see me before the end of Tuesday (and they can put me on whatever delectable antibiotics I need) or whether to go for the Emergency! side. I think I'll wait out until Monday because a) I'm not dying, b) I'm sure they'll squeeze me in somewhere because they can't be all that busy (right?!?) and especially if I explain how I'll be leaving the country and this is not a good state to leave in, and finally c) I can't really pull myself to do otherwise.

At the moment I'm in those moods where I'm terrified of anything and can't possibly think of accomplishing anything more complicated than flopping down dead on the floor. My making the phonecall took out about all my reserves in pro-action. I'm a hair's breadth away from freaking out, I think, which means I'm watching a lot of comedy shows on YouTube and failing to read Livejournal posts and standing around wondering what to do then saying things like, "Iron! Iron! Yes, iron. We will iron," to an empty room.

I suppose, if I had to, I could call the emergency number and make an appointment and all of that, but then, if we're going by the "if I had to" adage, I could also run down to Belgium screaming, "The zombies are coming!" whilst wielding a hammer, wearing nothing but torn pijamas and flip-flops. See, if I had to, I could do it. But I don't have to in that life-or-death sense of the verb and honestly, unless I have to do otherwise, I'm going to stay in my room for the rest of the weekend and quietly go insane. I mean, there's no point going anywhere on Sunday as the whole country is closed, and today's almost over if you want to do anything (which I don't, or rather can't).

So I'm going to keep on drinking loads of liquids and watching things like QI: Quite Interesting and trying not to think about anything because bad things would happen if I did. I suspect much of the craziness in me at the moment is coming from a variety of sources, such as a) the impending doom of spending Christmas with the family, b) hormones of doom, c) "Omfg I need to look for a job!" panic and d) what is this thing called social interaction?

Also, at the Biology Building, I've been twice introduced to new Spanish ladies either working or studying there. One was introduced to me by Moon, the receptionist with whom I speak Spanish because he's trying not to lose the language, because the lady was right there. It went well. The second was introduced to me by my previous supervisor simply because the lady was Spanish and therefore I had to meet her. It didn't go so well, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, I resent the mentality of "Oh! You're both from the same country! Even if that's all you have in common, you just have to meet! You'll be fast friends!"

Secondly, she complemented me on my Spanish. I understand that I may have fumbled a bit, but that was because I hadn't spoken to anyone in days, not because omg Spanish hard. Furthermore, my saying I didn't grow up in Spain doesn't mean I didn't grow up speaking Spanish, so fuck you and your compliments. You do not look a Spaniard in the eye and say, "Hey, your Spanish isn't bad." I let it slide when I get such compliments in English, because ~~some people are narrow-minded idiots~~ it's an understandable mistake. (Although if someone is speaking fluently and unaccentedly, do not compliment them on their command of the language, for fuck's sake, just let it go.)

The third reason why it went shittily is that the instant she learnt I was Spanish she switched to speaking in Spanish, despite there being two other people in the room joining in to the introduction who didn't speak that language. I was very uncomfortable doing that.

By the way, both my supervisors will be out of the country during my graduation, and any teachers I may have had during this program wouldn't know who I am anyway (they taught me way back in 2007) or aren't Biology teachers, so I will be speechified by the professor who helped me with the computer programs while I was working on my last project. I feel like such a failure for not having anyone.

Furthermore, I had nothing for lunch but the last dregs of the potato sack, fried. It was either than, or pasta again. Or a slice of cheese. I fail at life.

On the plus side: snow.

Last Night's Dream - A: I'm moving into a new house, along with Willy, in the sense that it's WW2 and we've been evacuated from the city and sent off to a country house. I have loose beads in my pocket. The house morphs into the second house I lived in in Costa Rica and I'm in the laundry room showing the place to prospective renters - something I've always hated, showing off my home to people who will live in it. More beads in my pocket, this time blue. They're not from any broken bracelet, just beads.

Last Night's Dream - B: In the top floor of a hospital, I've had to stick papers featuring lists in front of rows and rows of computers. Task completed, I took them off, only to realize that I had to double-check something and now could only rely on my memory rather than the cheat-sheets I'd stuck.

Last Night's Dream - C: I'm walking in an empty street and pick open a door to a house, finding it empty and delighted because I now have a place to crash. It's the post-apocalypse and hardly anyone's around anymore. I try to pick open another apartment but there's someone living there already.

Translation: I don't feel like my home is my own, and I try to make things make sense and stay in order but they don't, and it may or may not be my fault but I have to fix it anyway.

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