Deliverance

 

Bug pic! I'll update if I get a response from /r/whatsthisbug. 

Well, interesting week. Little stressful. Couple of those days where I should probably just have pulled the sheets up higher and stayed there.

First disappointment - the dressing didn't come off. My wrist was still a bit weepy, so another round of bandages. Moses assures me they will come off tomorrow instead. I believe him, because what choice do I have? But it's also dawned on me that I'll probably still wrap up in public, so as not to put people off their dinner. I thought my hand looked fairly normal, but a few people have wrinkled their noses, and I've had one audible 'eeewww'.  I've ordered long gloves from the UK. 

I'm still under instruction not to type or touch anything. Apparently I only have one layer of skin, and I need to grow two more before I can start that sort of shenanigans. Otherwise, I have been told, there is a chance that 'blood will come out of my fingers.' I don’t think I like the sound of that too much.

Had a sad moment when I picked up my whistle to see if I could play a simple tune, and realised there wasn't a hope in hell. I have no idea how long this is going to take, but things are slowly improving. I can put my bra on like an adult again.

Second disappointment: my gardener 'trimmed' (err, demolished) the tree with my washing line attached. But it's okay, my landlord used a pole to put it back up...

Need to grow two layers of skin and an extra three foot of armage.

And, final disappointment - well, you can probably guess.

'Back at the weekend,' translated to 'back on Monday, five hours before my flight,' for chap in a cassock. Having no prior warning, I'd booked a Nakumatt delivery and a meeting with a UK client - neither of which I would have done had I known. Ended up not seeing him. Not because the delivery was late, or the meeting overran, but because of this yucky feeling I had. I felt disproportionately pissed off. I really did like this guy. I was looking forward to seeing him, and I don't mind if business overruns and you're late - but I do mind a total dearth of communication followed by an expectation that I can drop whatever I'm doing last minute because you want to see me.

It's really nobody's fault.

Monochronic people cannot date polychronic people.

Just a fact of life.

It irked me because the last time I felt so bent out of shape by a bloke was D, for exactly the same reason. It was this flashback that froze my fuzzy warm feelings. That titanic wave of former frustration and irritation. 

I'm not sure I can ever look on this guy as 'just' a friend. I like him too much. But I dislike this feeling more than I like him, so time to put it in a box under the table. I'll work with him in a professional capacity, but I won't be out socialising. I'm done with that train of thought entirely.

But, the week hasn't been all doom and gloom. The delivery was fun. I now have somewhere to store my dishes, herbs and spices.

 One-handed flatpack assemblage? Leave this to me.

Earlier in the week, my friend Maia (different to Maja) dropped off a small desk I intend using for writing. I went and bought a proper office chair - the other half of the delivery. I've positioned it in front of my bedroom window with a (limited) view of Kigali and my papaya tree. I think of it as the glowing window of inspiration.

Old habits die hard. I had a little ritual tonight to imbue it with inspiration. Although I can't type fast with one hand, I feel I should attempt to make some progress. I'll begin with some editing, which only requires me to scowl at the screen, muttering to myself. 

Consider this writing desk activated!