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(March 16, 2021 at 7:42 am)Eleven Wrote: Went to work with a low threshold of pain. Left work with a pain level of eight or nine. Got home with a pain level of ten.
My only guess is that I somehow injured my foot when a guy sitting in a wheelchair ran over my foot, but I am uncertain. There was no pain at the time, but upon waking later that day my foot was swollen and hurting. Working on my feet merely exacerbated the issue, which is why I am in so much pain right now.
Looks like I might have to call off work till this gets better.
(March 16, 2021 at 7:42 am)Eleven Wrote: Went to work with a low threshold of pain. Left work with a pain level of eight or nine. Got home with a pain level of ten.
My only guess is that I somehow injured my foot when a guy sitting in a wheelchair ran over my foot, but I am uncertain. There was no pain at the time, but upon waking later that day my foot was swollen and hurting. Working on my feet merely exacerbated the issue, which is why I am in so much pain right now.
Looks like I might have to call off work till this gets better.
Go to urgent care for a workup, file workers comp.
Being told you're delusional does not necessarily mean you're mental.
March 29, 2021 at 7:46 am (This post was last modified: March 29, 2021 at 7:46 am by Silver.)
Something new I am working on writing. Almost done with chapter one. And for the first time in a long time, I had a title in mind before I even began writing it.
Love In The Mist:
I first saw a mushroom cloud at the age of six. Innocent, lying amidst wildflowers with you, our imaginations perceived shapely white clouds in the sky as all sorts of things that interested us at that age. Dinosaurs, spaceships, and mushrooms. The fungi primarily appealed to me, because I was a bit more nerdy than you were.
Years passed, hormones ravaged us and turned you into a teenage stranger, then the world around me literally became unrecognizable.
That long ago meadow is now an icy tundra, as is the rest of the planet. Gone is the blue sky, replaced with a blanket of darkness that completely blocks the sun and its illuminary influence. Cities are empty concrete jungles for the most part, considering that a great majority of the overall population no longer exists.
Months have passed as I remain conscious yet frozen in place at the secondary ground zero. The sound of the wintry wind has been the only company I need as my dry, unblinking eyes stare across the emptiness.
Nothing ever crosses my path because the frigid blanket with which I covered the planet ensures a minimal survival rate of animals who can withstand such a cold climate.
Yet, something begins to slowly make its way toward me from a distance. Taking its sweet time, I have tracked its progress for two days straight. There are earthly creatures that do move with a lethargic energy, kind of like the non-athletic kid being forced to participate in a physical education class.
My eyesight is perfect, but it is not until day three of its gradual forward trek that I think I know what it is. It is at least another two days away with its easy pace, and all I can wonder is how it is surviving the cold weather.
Its presence, if it really is what I think it is, reminds me of you. Invited over to your house one day after school in second grade, you showed me the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. Mine was a no pet household, per a reason that was never given, and bonding with your fist sized spider as though we were its parents was an unforgettable experience.
What seems to be making its way directly toward me is bigger than a spider. Are there spiders the size of big dogs? It definitely has multiple legs and has a long swishing tail at its backside. The case of unknown identity is solved half a day later as I more clearly see the creature as the large scorpion that it is.
Scorpions are mainly hot weather creatures, but they are also supposed to be tiny enough for me to squish in my hand. This thing is huge, but I am not afraid. Atop a tall pillar of ice, as though a geyser shot me up into the air before freezing beneath me to become my pedestal, I am safe from a creature that cannot climb up to where I reside.
As the creature nears over the slow passage of a day, I recognize details intrinsic to its appearance. Black in color, a stark contrast to the surrounding whiteness, its exoskeleton is not glowing in the dark because the moon is not visible to provide the necessary light. Its large pincers and shiny exoskeleton identify it as being an emperor scorpion, the largest of its species.
It continues to skitter across the frozen wasteland, occasionally disappearing from sight in a snow storm, and it always reappears looking bigger on the horizon. Upon its approach, I half expect the colossal scorpion to continue on past without so much as a curious glance.
The other thing I expect to happen is for the giant creature to ram into and knock down the icy pillar I have solemnly designated as my throne. What it does, however, is come to an abrupt halt below me with its huge bulbous stinger resting a mere yard below my feet.
More unexpected than encountering a large scorpion, the creature begins to disassemble into a black smoke that rises and hovers before me. The smoke swirls around as it slowly coalesce into a form representing a humanoid in a flowing dress. The black garment eventually hugs a tiny waist as well as a bumpy chest, then creeps its way along slender arms by way of a vine pattern leaving skin exposed to the cold.
Gloves cover dainty hands, but the dress does not adorn her above the bosom identifying gender before her face has a chance to appear. The shape of the head and sinuous red hair reveals itself before any facial features. A silver tiara inlaid with onyx stones appear atop the head.
A normal looking mouth appears, absent any lipstick coloring as far as I can discern, and then a tiny nose forms itself above a slightly stiff upper lip. High cheekbones come into formation, along with eyebrows that resemble extremely thin caterpillars, and the eyes are the last to develop.
Lavender in color, surrounded by pristine skin that warrants no makeup, there within resides the existence of a primordial intelligence.
"Love what you've done with the place," she says in a booming voice that pitches itself above the cacophony of the wind that my ears tuned out weeks ago. "Though I must confess, the monotony of it is beginning to annoy me."
Saying nothing, finding no reason to respond to someone interrupting my solitude, I simply stare at her.
"Very well," she says as she clasps her gloved hands together and sighs with a visible uprising of her chest. "This is about a man, isn't it?"
Having expected her to do something drastic rather than just play psychiatrist, I almost blink. I would have blinked, except that my eyelids are frozen open. It might take a good half a day for me to complete a full blink.
And if she expects me to speak, well, this enormous feat might take a few hours per syllable with how frozen shut my lips are. Even shaking or nodding my head will be a major chore I am in no condition to undertake.
I am the winter queen, the frozen hearted cast off incapable of feeling anything any longer, for good reason.
"Never trust a fox. Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat."
~ Erin Hunter
Apparently, this place thinks nurses need practical knowledge in algebra and geometry, as indicated in the aptitude test I took. I passed the reading part with flying colors, naturally. I was a mere twelve points off from passing the math section, and the only option was to retake the test. I kindly thanked them for wasting my time and now I need to find a school where I can simply go into the nursing program without any sort of aptitude testing nonsense.
