I'm an educated, work-experienced cat from the world of the white collar. I spent 15 minutes attempting to turn a flat-packed archive box into a normal archive box.The instructions were clear, I just didn't understand them—or failed to translate their pics into concrete boxed action.Fifteen minutes.I felt epic stupid. I did succeed—and I didn't chuck a snit.Later I had to do cutting, lots of it.
Articles from Harrangue Man
The other day I was in a fear cake; caked in fear. It was like I was baked into it and I could not move it was that paralyzing. I had to go through a long list of titles to make sure something was not there.
I had a psych visit where I was angry and I cried. When we got home I crawled into bed and slept the grief off. I felt better for it. It was better than being awake and fixating on what was said. Hooray for a shut down reboot; sometimes you really do have to turn it off and on again.
RidingI rode up an embankment of concreted rock. I didn't mean to, I didn't use both brakes is all. On another ride I rode into a hedge; well, through it. My arm dragged through thorny greenery for a few seconds until I could wobble away. Stupid hedge. Stupid me for riding through it.MeerkatWe have some; most are terrified. They look up with a mute scream.
It was pissing buckets in the nation's capital and about a half dozen times the car aquaplaned for what felt like a heartbeat or two. You had to grip the wheel and keep the accelerator down without cruise control to maintain control and go slower---I wonder if you can get an un-speed camera ticket because I passed one at 70 in a 100 zone.I used to joke with overseas visitors that, no, they were unlikely to see kangaroos just hopping about in Canberra.
There was a broken basket that needed duct tape in all the right places and I decided to have a go. I have PTSD with hand tremours one of the effects and those tremours could be caused by the meds that I take for PTSD. If the price to pay for not living caked in fear is tremble fingers then so be it. It means random tasks like duct tape and scissors become an exciting challenge especially with scissors that are not great for duct tape.
I sent feedback on a product and got a follow up question the same day. I don't think that's happened before.I feel unsettled. I'm so inured to shouting into the dark without reponse to get a shout back is weird and not normal.(Looks around warily)
I've got a new trike. It's smaller than the old one but a purpose electric-mechanical model with seven gears instead of an experimental three gear electric on a single gear trike.I've had some moments.I miss the throttle. You could when you felt sore just thumb down the throttle and glide forth on electricity alone. There is no throttle on this one; you have to hold down the power assist mode button and you will go at a tepid six kph and only on level ground. I nearly rode into a bridge.
I was trying to get my splayed paddle foot down the trouser of the short shorts and the foot caught crossways in the hole as I pulled them up and I ripped the waistband off. There was a tearing sound and everything. Short shorts into the bin.Getting short shorts on is a hassle.
I was reading a US news site when an ad slot was populated with an ad for the now co-ed but then all boys private school I was forced to attend because I let my parents down with a body they caused. It was at this school I was taught that people with a disability are fucked and should be bullied because they set a bad example. A school where I was beaten by prefects and monstered by peers and teachers alike.