Day 5.2 Foresight
Jun. 2nd, 2009 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyrasantae
In the end it wasn't SHE who defeated me, it was my hands. My fingers began to feel tingly very early on, but not badly so.
SHE made a big deal about getting a list of what was missing from our toolboxes. "Grab the box in front of you and tell me what's missing." Mine was complete, but it wasn't "mine"; it was just the one in front of me. When everybody had checked their box, SHE said, "okay, now that will be your box from now on," despite the veteran crew already having an assigned box written on the note board. I had some random extra stuff in my old box so of course I protested. Why should everything change around arbitrarily just based on what we happened to be standing in front of?
We're still working on the same room but things are finally coming together now. But overall, I felt that there was still a sense of massive wasted potential: wasted intelligence, wasted space, wasted time. So much more efficiency and organization could be accomplished with just a little foresight -- to think ahead to potential issues and then adapt and adjust to minimize such contingencies. Example: building a cabinet combination upwards one level at a time means you're not wasting space stacking completed parts somewhere, and the time to maneuver and place the parts together. Example: once the second batch of parts came in and got labelled, to have stacked them into the appropriate stacks made from the first batch of parts -- saving time spent looking for the parts and people having to tiptoe and step over other people and other boxes trying to get to the parts that are needed.
Breakfast got awkward with the drinking talk so I kept my eyes on my eggs and said little. By lunch my fingers had mysteriously gotten to feeling very tingly and numb (almost as though asleep). I knew that was going to be the end of it. I sent a message to my boss saying that this was the last straw and that I was quitting. He let HER know (I was going to tell HER anyway but couldn't find HER), and SHE let me go home.
The tingling went away after a few hours -- I wanted to think that maybe I had my braces on too tightly, but I've done that before and it didn't stay numb for so long. Plus it hurts more at rest than it usually does.
Yeah maybe it wouldn't have come to this if I'd used the electric drill from the outset, but there's no point in having regrets. Consider the past, live in the present, think of the future.
I guess it's back to square one. I think I'll see a doctor on Thursday and ask about getting a detailed diagnosis and appropriate treatment. My right wrist is currently just compression bandaged, but it is becoming easily sore, unpredictably sore. On and off, both hands feel shaky and a bit numb-ish. Give me a week of rest, but I know it wasn't like this before.
I just feel defeated, when I know I shouldn't be. It's not like I quit because I couldn't take it psychologically. If it was just HER, I could have pulled through. But this is physiological, and it's serious (there can come a point when I would never be able to play piano again), and not something I can just pretend isn't there and carry on.
SHE made a big deal about getting a list of what was missing from our toolboxes. "Grab the box in front of you and tell me what's missing." Mine was complete, but it wasn't "mine"; it was just the one in front of me. When everybody had checked their box, SHE said, "okay, now that will be your box from now on," despite the veteran crew already having an assigned box written on the note board. I had some random extra stuff in my old box so of course I protested. Why should everything change around arbitrarily just based on what we happened to be standing in front of?
We're still working on the same room but things are finally coming together now. But overall, I felt that there was still a sense of massive wasted potential: wasted intelligence, wasted space, wasted time. So much more efficiency and organization could be accomplished with just a little foresight -- to think ahead to potential issues and then adapt and adjust to minimize such contingencies. Example: building a cabinet combination upwards one level at a time means you're not wasting space stacking completed parts somewhere, and the time to maneuver and place the parts together. Example: once the second batch of parts came in and got labelled, to have stacked them into the appropriate stacks made from the first batch of parts -- saving time spent looking for the parts and people having to tiptoe and step over other people and other boxes trying to get to the parts that are needed.
Breakfast got awkward with the drinking talk so I kept my eyes on my eggs and said little. By lunch my fingers had mysteriously gotten to feeling very tingly and numb (almost as though asleep). I knew that was going to be the end of it. I sent a message to my boss saying that this was the last straw and that I was quitting. He let HER know (I was going to tell HER anyway but couldn't find HER), and SHE let me go home.
The tingling went away after a few hours -- I wanted to think that maybe I had my braces on too tightly, but I've done that before and it didn't stay numb for so long. Plus it hurts more at rest than it usually does.
Yeah maybe it wouldn't have come to this if I'd used the electric drill from the outset, but there's no point in having regrets. Consider the past, live in the present, think of the future.
I guess it's back to square one. I think I'll see a doctor on Thursday and ask about getting a detailed diagnosis and appropriate treatment. My right wrist is currently just compression bandaged, but it is becoming easily sore, unpredictably sore. On and off, both hands feel shaky and a bit numb-ish. Give me a week of rest, but I know it wasn't like this before.
I just feel defeated, when I know I shouldn't be. It's not like I quit because I couldn't take it psychologically. If it was just HER, I could have pulled through. But this is physiological, and it's serious (there can come a point when I would never be able to play piano again), and not something I can just pretend isn't there and carry on.
