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Where oh where has the Serif gone?
14 years ago
From the beak of Serif and his human core:
Warning, long journal full of whining and complaining.
Well! Now that I’ve finished my major commissions and have only a few drawing things to do, I can write this journal. I didn’t want to write it and have people think I was making excuses to not do commissions or whatever. Now that they are done, people can see that I’m not using excuses to take a while on items. I am using them, however, as excuses to NOT take any more!
These last eight or so months have been taxing on me, and it’s multiplied the last four months, five now that it’s September.
I think I might be sick. I don’t know yet, as I haven’t gotten looked at for it. But I know there’s something going on with me that there shouldn’t be.
I started work at Angel Stadium back in April. Season started in June, but I was hired in April. It’s my first real job. I’ve had desk work at school, I’ve worked in a few theaters as a lighting assistant/designer, but I’ve never had a “real” job before. I’ve never worked food, I’ve never worked retail, that sort of thing. This job is both. I’m both manning a cash-register, and I’m preparing/serving food.
For those of you that don’t know, I have a speech impediment; a stutter. It might not seem like much, and I hate to use it as a woe-is-me, but it really DOES make it hard to find a job. People want you to be able to answer phones, to speak with customers, the like. While that means I can do a night job like stocking the shelves, when I go in for an interview I’ll get one or two questions in before they dismiss me.
So I’m trying to work through it. If it’s working or not, I’m not one to judge. But it’s made KEEPING this job a pain in the ass. People don’t come to my window because I don’t greet them in full words. My drawers are always under a thousand. When a hot dog is $5 and a beer is $8, I should be able to make a thousand dollars in four innings. I’m lucky to make fifty. Low drawers have been used as a threat. “Pull in more, or we’ll let you go.”
Rather than, say, put me in back cooking the hot dogs. Well, I started work at the Panda Express that’s in the stadium, and my stand lead is amazing. She understands that I have trouble with words, and rather than forcing me to over work myself and be fired for something stupid, she has me serve. So I still speak with customers, but it’s at my own pace, it’s short, and I don’t embarrass myself.
But I’m working overtime to keep my job. They say jump and I pull out a trampoline and ask how high. I pull the weight of two or three people some nights; serving both the sides, the entrees, and then cashing them out. I’ll beg Sarah to give me a ride because they call me in last second and I have to be at the stadium in fifteen minutes from hanging up the phone. I’m trying very hard to keep this job, and have even worked events at the Honda Center to keep it.
I’m exhausted. I’m trying to keep up with my friends, go on outings to try and find “someone for me.” I’m back in school with twelve units (normally I have sixteen, but it seems my classes are getting canceled after I pay for them.) I’m trying to start up an online business. I’m trying to pay off the debt that working in Huntington Beach has created.
And then we’re back at the original topic; I’m sick.
Not long ago, I went to the doctor because my knee and shoulder hurt. Long ago and far away (not so far) I lived with an abusive parent. I’ve had a lot of injuries over the years, two of which concern my recent woes; my left shoulder repeatedly pulled out of its socket, and my left knee hitting a sidewalk after being thrown off a roof. Neither of which were ever looked at. Until about a month ago.
After x-rays and prodding tests, the doctor told me that there’s really nothing they can do about the pain in my joints. But that getting some body padding would help. Body padding meaning that I need to gain weight. I’m underweight; I weigh 95 pounds soaking wet, and I’m five foot five. I’m also twenty three. I should be 115-150. What’s that tell you?
I’ve tried to get into shape, but my knee gives out when I’m running, and my shoulder can’t pull me up or lift very high on most days. I also eat all the time. I was 95 pounds in high school, when I rarely ate. I’m STILL 95 pounds, and I eat like a horse. At work my knee gives out about the seventh inning, which is okay because my stand lead normally lets me go on break about then, so I don’t fall or anything.
I can’t sleep very well. I’m constantly distracted when trying to get things done. And I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but something I eat makes me sick about once a week. Since I’m the one that cooks for the house, I’ve kept track of what I eat and when I’m sick. So far, the only thing that MIGHT be doing it is milk, but I’ve had days I’m sick and I haven’t had any milk.
My body is falling apart, and I don’t know why. Some days I feel so drained that I sit at my sewing machine and just shake… but I hadn’t done anything that day. The dark rings under my eyes never go away. I’m tired all the time.
There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t know what it is. So… I haven’t been online much. Oh sure I check my facebook, my LJ, my twitter. Little things that give me stuff to copy to a text document and read on my breaks at work. I haven’t been very active; I’d like to hang out more with my friends but most days I can’t even leave my room very much.
So, now you know why I haven’t posted anything here in a long time. Like my sketch a day thing. I’m drawing, but I haven’t had the oomph to scan it and upload it. Sometimes I take bad pictures of it. And I’m not happy with my art either. It’s frustrating, and makes me angry.
So yep. That’s it. Bawwing and bitching over.
TL:DR; SERIF’S A WHINING BABY AND MIGHT BE SICK WITH SOMETHING. News at eleven.
Well! Now that I’ve finished my major commissions and have only a few drawing things to do, I can write this journal. I didn’t want to write it and have people think I was making excuses to not do commissions or whatever. Now that they are done, people can see that I’m not using excuses to take a while on items. I am using them, however, as excuses to NOT take any more!
These last eight or so months have been taxing on me, and it’s multiplied the last four months, five now that it’s September.
I think I might be sick. I don’t know yet, as I haven’t gotten looked at for it. But I know there’s something going on with me that there shouldn’t be.
I started work at Angel Stadium back in April. Season started in June, but I was hired in April. It’s my first real job. I’ve had desk work at school, I’ve worked in a few theaters as a lighting assistant/designer, but I’ve never had a “real” job before. I’ve never worked food, I’ve never worked retail, that sort of thing. This job is both. I’m both manning a cash-register, and I’m preparing/serving food.
For those of you that don’t know, I have a speech impediment; a stutter. It might not seem like much, and I hate to use it as a woe-is-me, but it really DOES make it hard to find a job. People want you to be able to answer phones, to speak with customers, the like. While that means I can do a night job like stocking the shelves, when I go in for an interview I’ll get one or two questions in before they dismiss me.
So I’m trying to work through it. If it’s working or not, I’m not one to judge. But it’s made KEEPING this job a pain in the ass. People don’t come to my window because I don’t greet them in full words. My drawers are always under a thousand. When a hot dog is $5 and a beer is $8, I should be able to make a thousand dollars in four innings. I’m lucky to make fifty. Low drawers have been used as a threat. “Pull in more, or we’ll let you go.”
Rather than, say, put me in back cooking the hot dogs. Well, I started work at the Panda Express that’s in the stadium, and my stand lead is amazing. She understands that I have trouble with words, and rather than forcing me to over work myself and be fired for something stupid, she has me serve. So I still speak with customers, but it’s at my own pace, it’s short, and I don’t embarrass myself.
But I’m working overtime to keep my job. They say jump and I pull out a trampoline and ask how high. I pull the weight of two or three people some nights; serving both the sides, the entrees, and then cashing them out. I’ll beg Sarah to give me a ride because they call me in last second and I have to be at the stadium in fifteen minutes from hanging up the phone. I’m trying very hard to keep this job, and have even worked events at the Honda Center to keep it.
I’m exhausted. I’m trying to keep up with my friends, go on outings to try and find “someone for me.” I’m back in school with twelve units (normally I have sixteen, but it seems my classes are getting canceled after I pay for them.) I’m trying to start up an online business. I’m trying to pay off the debt that working in Huntington Beach has created.
And then we’re back at the original topic; I’m sick.
Not long ago, I went to the doctor because my knee and shoulder hurt. Long ago and far away (not so far) I lived with an abusive parent. I’ve had a lot of injuries over the years, two of which concern my recent woes; my left shoulder repeatedly pulled out of its socket, and my left knee hitting a sidewalk after being thrown off a roof. Neither of which were ever looked at. Until about a month ago.
After x-rays and prodding tests, the doctor told me that there’s really nothing they can do about the pain in my joints. But that getting some body padding would help. Body padding meaning that I need to gain weight. I’m underweight; I weigh 95 pounds soaking wet, and I’m five foot five. I’m also twenty three. I should be 115-150. What’s that tell you?
I’ve tried to get into shape, but my knee gives out when I’m running, and my shoulder can’t pull me up or lift very high on most days. I also eat all the time. I was 95 pounds in high school, when I rarely ate. I’m STILL 95 pounds, and I eat like a horse. At work my knee gives out about the seventh inning, which is okay because my stand lead normally lets me go on break about then, so I don’t fall or anything.
I can’t sleep very well. I’m constantly distracted when trying to get things done. And I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but something I eat makes me sick about once a week. Since I’m the one that cooks for the house, I’ve kept track of what I eat and when I’m sick. So far, the only thing that MIGHT be doing it is milk, but I’ve had days I’m sick and I haven’t had any milk.
My body is falling apart, and I don’t know why. Some days I feel so drained that I sit at my sewing machine and just shake… but I hadn’t done anything that day. The dark rings under my eyes never go away. I’m tired all the time.
There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t know what it is. So… I haven’t been online much. Oh sure I check my facebook, my LJ, my twitter. Little things that give me stuff to copy to a text document and read on my breaks at work. I haven’t been very active; I’d like to hang out more with my friends but most days I can’t even leave my room very much.
So, now you know why I haven’t posted anything here in a long time. Like my sketch a day thing. I’m drawing, but I haven’t had the oomph to scan it and upload it. Sometimes I take bad pictures of it. And I’m not happy with my art either. It’s frustrating, and makes me angry.
So yep. That’s it. Bawwing and bitching over.
TL:DR; SERIF’S A WHINING BABY AND MIGHT BE SICK WITH SOMETHING. News at eleven.
I know how it is, I think my kidneys are fucking with me but I have no doctor..... -_- So thus I join you in the Might Be Sick club.
As to exercise, the best kind you can get when your joints refuse to do weight bearing exercise is swimming. There might also be some bodybuilding exercises you can do, but you should talk to people who know what they're doing about your joints before you take up a routine.