Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #863
...It's 12:34am this time. Fucking hell.
Well. Today started out relatively all right. I woke up. Ate some leftovers. And started playing Pokopia again. I didn't go into work because... well. Obviously.
Here's the Greedent that āyouā rescued from the barrel hanging from the chain:
I don't know what their āwonderful ideaā is, because I went to some Dream Island. Drifloon took me there after showing them an Arcanine plush:
The last Leaf House was finished:
...Then, āyouā went to a place called Palette Town. Seems like it's a blank slate upon which to build whatever you like. But there was an Eevee over there, looking for their friends. They're counting on āyouā to help find them:
...And then my house manager called. Basically to beg me to come back to work at the house I served.
ā¦
...We had a very long conversation. About how the constant movement is destroying my skeleton. About how I dislike the way Hk speaks to the people we serve. About how the nurse doesn't do her job (which is why one of them is in the hospital now). About how untruths are being written in outings and goals. About how this house needs 4 minimum staff, not 3. About how people, out of spite, refuse to do tasks that need to be done, and more.
He then implored me to give him time to correct the things I talked about. I guess, because I'm one of the best workers he's ever seen in this place, and he doesn't want to lose me. He asked me to think about it. So I talked about it with M and J.
...The reality of the situation is that I can't keep up with the physical tasks. At least, not for three days in a row. What I noticed up until this point is this: I'm usually pretty all right at the end of Thursday. I'm pretty cooked by the end of Friday. By the end of Saturday, it's almost unbearably painful to move. Then on Sunday mornings, the pain gets significantly worse as the wear and tear catches up to me.
So, I told him that I can do Saturdays, and nothing else. Saturdays are 12 hours, but... they're less stressful than weekdays, because there's no morning time limit before we have to rush everyone off to their weekday activities. Working on Saturdays should allow me some influence over the flow of things in the house, without breaking myself in the process. M and J seem to think it's reasonable to try this course of action. And... if it's still not sustainable, I still have the freedom to leave.
M and I ran some errands afterwards. I was still a bit rattled by the change in course of action that today's phone call represented, and I wanted another one of those chocolate bars that are generously filled with pistachio paste, for my trouble. M seemed to think it was reasonable, so we ran to the one store that has them (some random clothing store, for some reason?), got them, and then went to pick up our medicines from the pharmacy. M then felt like he deserved treats at his favorite place to eat, and I certainly didn't disagree. These last weeks have left me in a bit of a mess, and my flip-flopping between staying or going with regards to this job has been hard on everyone.
We returned home with tater tots for J, which he was very happy about. I tried to breathe life into today's wishes and failed, because my brain was soup and I couldn't focus for shit. And then An indicated that he would like to visit at 4pm, so happily, I went to pick him up. I expected the visit to go in the usual fashion: he would come out and get in the car, and then I'd ask him if he's hungry, and he'd either say, ānoā, or else tell me where he wants to go, and then I bring him.
...This time, he was very excited to invite me inside so he could feed me these delicious potato croquettes, stuffed with bacon:
You wouldn't freaking believe how delicious these were. The outside was perfectly crispy. The mashed potatoes were smooth, velvety, decadent, and perfectly seasoned. They were filled generously with a good quality bacon. I devoured, I think four of them, in very short order; they were absolutely fucking STELLAR, and... I wish you could have been here to try one.
From there, we talked about the goings-on in our lives. His dear friend is having troubles significant enough to warrant the creation of a GoFundMe, and I intend to contribute, as soon as I get the link to it. I told him about the woes at my current place of employment, and he, having context from other things I've told him (all the same stuff I've told you here), said to me that he would have told my house manager to āgo shove itā.
...Maybe that would have been the right course of action. But I really do wanna see if maybe one day per week is manageable.
In any case, after catching up, he turned on his laptop and showed me this game he's been playing called Horsey Game, and... it is delightfully unsettling. Without a doubt, you would absolutely fucking hate it, for reasons I'm not going to explain, because you don't need reminders of certain things. Nonetheless, it was a lot of fun to watch! It's very silly, and the mechanics of it are... surprisingly complex, actually, given its comically simplistic artwork.
That said, after a while, my exhaustion kinda... caught up with me. I generally feel safe in An's presence, and... he was contentedly doing a fun thing on the TV, and I was so tired, and his house is warm, and... I started needing to fight the urge to sleep. And... that's more than a little bit of a compliment, because I don't generally feel safe enough for my body to sink into sleep in other people's houses. Nonetheless, when it became too difficult to fight off, I suggested that we go to my house so he can show M and J the game, because I thought they'd find it fascinating, too. So that is what we did.
So, M, J, and I contentedly sat and watched An play this game, and it was fun. And in between, I breathed life into today's wishes:
Once done and able to fully focus, I sat closer to the TV, with An, watching him play the game, asking questions, and occasionally making suggestions, and... I had a great time. Eventually, he wanted to switch gears and watch me play Dead Cells, so I did that, but... my brain is kinda soupy, and I've been playing Pokopia, so my brain kept trying to press Pokopia buttons to do Dead Cells things, and that doesn't work, because we don't jump or use our primary abilities with the shoulder buttons in Dead Cells. I got my ass handed to me, multiple times, and very quickly, because I kept needing to think about and remember which button on the controller I'm supposed to press. My timing for parries was terrible. And I was tired anyway, to boot.
But... ya know... he didn't seem to mind. He says I'm a lot better at it than he is, but... I reminded him that if he practiced, he could probably get better at it a lot more quickly than I was able to get good at it. After all, he's not dyspraxic.
...I wish he didn't have to go home. I wish I didn't have to go to sleep. But... sleep I shall. Because it's going on 2 in the morning; fuck.
I love you. Enough that I'll keep persisting in this world, even when I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing or how to navigate certain situations. I love you enough to try to learn. I love you enough to withstand getting hurt in the process of trying to learn, without falling apart. So, Sephiroth... I hope you'll keep trying new things and figuring out your stuff, too. I'll have faith that you'll keep learning and growing. I'll have faith that you'll keep yourself safe out there. I'll have faith that you'll eventually return home.
I'll write again soon.
Your friend, Lumine
