I am not a superstitious person, but boy did today suck.
I behaved unprofessionally at work: I lost my temper in an email. Not really badly - I didn't curse or anything - but I was in a snit and everybody knew it. Worse still, I was WRONG. I apologized as soon as I figured that out, of course; but really, I knew better than to send the email to begin with. Worse, my boss gave me a lecture about it, all the while telling me it wasn't a big deal. On the one hand, she felt she had to do it, and of course I understand that. On the other hand - does she really think I don't realize I shouldn't have done it?
I owned up to losing my temper, and did my best to take full responsibility. She seemed fine, really; she clearly doesn't like it when people are upset. I hope she didn't notice I spent the whole half-hour with her trying not to burst into tears. I hope she didn't realize I went straight to Steve's office afterward and did just that.
It's been a long time since I lost control like that at work. Why now? Could it be...stress???
On Monday, I am having a repeat mammogram and a bilateral ultrasound. I have googled enough to know that repeat mammograms are not uncommon - one in ten women are called to have new films taken, and the percentage is higher for women under 50. The ultrasound is sometimes used in cases where the tissue is very dense, and it's hard to see - it can detect more than the x-ray can. So odds are this is pretty routine; I figure the fact that they're doing BOTH over again probably means they just want clearer pictures, not that anything is wrong.
But nobody will tell me anything. All I know is whatever the reason they haven't seen anything seriously alarming, or they would have either brought me back immediately or ordered a biopsy. So either the original films were too hard to read, or they've seen some things they can't identify. The odds are extremely good it's nothing - but I don't even know where I'm starting from. Underneath everything I do these days is a very deep well of terror, and it doesn't take much to tap into it.
School is a blessing and a curse right now. It certainly fills my spare time, such as it is! But we're down to the wire, so the next nine days are going to involve a lot of work. Distraction, yes; but still stress.
Em has had a rough week. She's had a falling-out with one of her friends. I've always thought of this girl as a Queen Bee type; but listening to Em talk it sounds more like this girl is the one being isolated. Rightly or wrongly, I don't know; I'm not sure what the three-and-a-half-year-old social rules are. If it continues much longer I might ask her teacher; she must have noticed, since Em and this girl used to be inseparable. I assumed Em had been rejected; now I'm wondering if it wasn't the other way around. While I would never tell her she had to play with someone she didn't want to play with, I find it bothersome to think that Em might be the one being cruel.
We've also fiddled with bedtime again. She was starting to feel like Daddy was punishment - and in fact I wouldn't usually call for Daddy unless I was beside myself with frustration because she wouldn't go to sleep. So we talked to her about taking turns, because we both like to spend time with her. She seems to have found that acceptable; last night I stayed with her for about forty minutes, and then Steve took over. She was completely fine. Tonight she fell asleep rather quickly with me, although she knew Steve would come up after a while. Her nap today was only twenty minutes, so I'm not surprised she zonked so fast.
She's been re-enrolled in gymnastics, so she'll keep going through May at least. At that point they'll probably start thinking of putting her into the four-year-old class; of course, I think she'll at least need to do a somersault on her own first! I read my last entry, where I was so sure she'd be doing somersaults on her own. I've seen her do them a couple of times; but really, I think she likes having the teacher help her. She's madly in love with the woman, and needing help gets her attention. I don't want to push her into somersaulting if she's not ready; but I know she could do it if she decided she wanted to. Not that I'm expecting her to be a gymnast - she's way too tall, for one thing - but I'd hate to have to stop taking her to classes because she can't keep up.