Putting on my Pay Rise Dancing Pants

Before doing anything else, you really need to click this link so you can see the most adorable thing that has ever been put on the internet. That little GIF made my day before 10 a.m.when I saw it this morning.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled discussion. Remember how I was complaining about work the other day? Yes,that all still stands, but I finally had my evaluation and it was very fair, I'm not being fired, and I even got a decent raise. I was told about my raise before we began discussing my evaluation so I sat calmly and listened and nodded my head and made all the right noises whilst inside I was doing the snoopy dance. And I did, for the most part, feel that my boss's evaluation of me was fair and balanced. I wasn't entirely satisfied with it but it went a lot better than I feared. Also, a raise! Oh, yes, sorry, mentioned that bit, didn't I? I think it's always thrilling when you get a pay rise even if it does only amount to $35 more a paycheck (that's how much mine is, I found out, but I'll take it). Hence,

And with tomorrow not just being Friday but payday as well, I'm not sure I can really complain about much. I did tell my boss, at the end of my evaluation, that I like my job and enjoy the work. I don't know why I said that as I wasn't exactly prompted, but it's true. I do enjoy the work, it's just difficult to get sometimes. And yes, I do have a number of complaints but who doesn't? I think I need to try to remember the following things: 

1. This is my job, not my life.
2. I only need to be concerned with my own work.
3. There is always room for improvement.
4. Try not to let it get to you if you know you can't change it.
5. No matter what, the work day will end, as will the commute, and there is a greenhouse waiting. 

All in all, I'm trying to maintain a positive attitude and to approach the world more calmly. Refer back to the issues I had with the Bat and his being totally disrespectful; I thought things through instead of blowing up at him and realized that no, he respects me, he just doesn't think or consider what his words are going to sound like to someone else. So I am trying to be more thoughtful and careful and cautious these days, in my home life and my working life. All in all, I think it will make for a peaceful existence and I'd be very happy with that. 

Now, back to work. I've spent enough of my pretend 'break' on the internet and there are documents I need to read before a meeting. 

No Work and No Play

My return to work has been anticlimactic. Well, that's not entirely true. I needed to stop and fill up on gas before heading in on Tuesday morning and realized, as I drove to the gas station, that I'd forgotten the lovely packed lunch I'd made the night before. I began the fueling process and then walked towards the convenience store for a soda when a pick up truck almost ran over me as it backed out of a spot. I was pretty surprised but couldn't say anything as it took me a few moments to realize what was going on and I was nearly hit by the damned thing. Then, when I swung by the Bat Cave to retrieve my forgotten lunch, I had trouble getting out of my car and one of my shoes fell off.

I don't know why, but I have serious problems getting out of my car every damned day when I get home from work. It seems that I don't know how to navigate the curb if I park with my driver's side against it. I've told Monkey that we ought to set up cameras to film me because every day it's something new. If I have heals on, I risk twisting one or both of my ankles. If I have boots on, I end up doing a wide stance squat movement. When I wear ballet flats, well, I lose a shoe under my car. I'm a special, special snowflake. And I need to start parking with the front of my car heading in the other direction. Not only will that save me from having to do a 3-point turn around in the morning, it will allow me to maintain some form of dignity when exiting my vehicle.

Work, as it has been for about two weeks now, is incredibly slow. I have never worked in an office where I've had to beg for assignments and ask the same manager the same question every day. In the past week and a half, I've had a single project to work on, requiring the creation of two whole documents. Sure, I drag it out and make it take as much time as possible, but it would be nice to have a queue of assignments so that I could complete one project and move on to the next rather than limping along, stretching things out, all to avoid the limbo that is my usual work life. Now that I've completed the oh so challenging two documents for that enormous one project, I've emailed the managers to say "hey, I need work. I'm not doing anything. I'm sitting here and you are paying me to dick around." I don't know if I can truly express just how frustrating this is. I'm told that more information is needed from one of the guys in IT. What the hell does that mean? I'm told that I can't ask for assignments from people outside my division because if I have spare time there are plenty of things that need doing and if they knew I was waiting, they'd fill up my queue.

But they don't. And now, when I eventually have my evaluation with my manager, I'll have to explain, yet again, that getting work is like pulling teeth and that this is probably why I solicited for other work in the first place. She's been copied on the emails in which I ask, yet again, for work, stating that I've got nothing. Why doesn't she go scream at the other manager about getting me shit to do? Nope, I get reamed and I'm at fault. Just sit and be quiet and wait with the daily nudge to others to ask them to do their fucking job. It's enough to have me wondering if they will tell me, any day now, that I have thirty days to find a new position. That is how my company handles layoffs unless you've committed a termination worthy offense. I've been in my new capacity for a year now, and I like the work - when I can get it. Most of what I was promised never manifested and so I've been bummed about that. But I've learned and grown by leaps and bounds and honestly do want to continue in this line of work. But when it's so bloody hard to get assignments - and I hear that others are swamped - what can I do but feel a bit nervous? 

October's Beginning or Camping's Aftermath

Hello there. It is about 7:36 a.m. on Saturday and Batman is still asleep regardless of the fact that it was his alarm that went off (twice). But we also went to bed relatively early for two youngish people on a Friday night so up I am, listening to KERA and working on a scarf. Because 32-almost-33 is the new 72.

I feel better today than I have in the last week. I believe I mentioned that my body launched a full scale rebellion after the camping trip, my trapezoids or whateverazoids (AKA: muscles in my shoulders and back and forearms that had previously lain dormant) hurting like a son of bitch and making it difficult to lift my arms or pick anything up. I also pulled something in my left leg, though I'm not sure what. Not exactly a hamstring, maybe a glut muscle? That sounds like a glut rhymes with slut muscle which is funny because in my head I've hurt my glutton muscle by over indulging. But that isn't the point; no, the point is I pulled something and was limping around and then yesterday I tried to sit, cross legged, on my bed, when I twisted the fuck out of that hip and leg and ended up near tears on the floor trying to explain to Bubbles that I'd hurt myself (whilst trying to sit the fuck down) and that is why I was making those noises. She was unsympathetic. I was gimping around all day and it hurt even when I was just sitting there but whatever, I'm Wu-Tang so I powered through.

Then I got to the Bat's house and pretty much first thing, I whacked the shin of my good leg into his bed and bruised it. This morning? Whacked my left knee into a table trying to get out of his bedroom.

Oh, and did I mention the cold? Yeah, I woke up with a cold on Wednesday morning and felt so crumby I worked from home the rest of the week. I'm sure I got it from all that fresh air and swimming in a lake when it wasn't exactly warm outside and being around kids. But whatev, I'm doing way better now and I had a blast earning that cold. And I think it is on its way out, which I'm grateful for but a bit surprised by. Yes, I take a DMT to halt progression of my disease, but I always worry that when I get ill (which has happened somewhat frequently since my move to Texas) it'll linger longer than it used to because of the whole suppressed immune system thing. Whenever I read anything about the need for flu shots or protecting myself from germs or the sun in terms of MS, I read things about how I'll be out for the count for a really long time if I get sick. I guess I'm just very lucky to have relapsing remitting and to have enough of a *healthy* immune system to not fall into that category. Just as I've been grateful for this diagnosis since the day I received it (because, as I've said, it could have been traumatically, dramatically, terrifyingly worse), I am equally if not more grateful (graterful? full of graters) that I remain so healthy and functional.

What a whiner I sound like in this post. What's funny is that I find it all a bit comical. I hurt the fuck out of my hip/leg trying to sit down on my bed for crying out loud! It's like the time I hung up the phone in my mother's kitchen (back in the day phone, the kind that was mounted on the wall and had a cord) and turned and fell flat on my face for no good reason. At some point you realize that you need to go about your life thinking that the world is there to hurt you and bruise you so move more deliberately and thoughtfully stupid. Oh, and when you organize your giant black hole bag with the one pocket and you put your ibuprofen in there? Yeah, maybe take a few of those handy little pills to help with the immense pain you are feeling. It's like I've said to KC and the Sunshine Band (and many others) - I either need to wrap myself in bubble wrap or have a signed permission slip and chaperon for any and all outings. And I need to do an adult version of baby safing my apartment because clearly I don't understand the concept of my body in space and inanimate objects (seriously, you know how you find bruises on your body and you can't remember how you got them [not because you were wasted when it happened, just because you didn't register it in time?] I had one below my knee and I was musing as to how I could have gotten it when I whacked the exact same spot into Johan's cage again. And it isn't like his cage is in the way or even flush with a wall. I'm just special).

My cold seems to be on the way out. Yesterday wasn't terrible although I was very leaky and felt clammy and a bit run down. Last night I slept well and woke up with a cough but less leaking so I think I'm on the way out of illsville. I'm stoked because I miss going into the office. Don't get me wrong, working from home is a wonderful privilege and I appreciate that my boss has allowed me to utilize it so much this week. But I don't actually enjoy doing it too much. I've mentioned that before and it hasn't changed. One day a week is fine but multiple days just irritates me. I end up lonely and have to deal with Bubbles who has progressed from just laying on top of me/on top of my computer to meowing at me incessantly to meowing at me from another room causing me to think something was wrong. The first time she did that I jumped up and found her sitting on a chair in my bedroom just meowing. I guess she wanted to be petted and talked to in a different milieu. Yeah, I said milieu... lemme look it up 'right quick' to see if I used it right (isn't it usually for literary/dramatic writings when discussing setting? this isn't me looking it up... let me do that) ... according to dictionary.reference.com "surroundings, especially of a social or cultural nature:" so no, used it wrong unless I speak about my bedroom in the context of a social or cultural nature. She wanted to talk and be petted in a different room. That's right English majors, less is more unless you want to sound pretentious and stupid. I sometimes sound pretentious without meaning too; I prefer to just sound stupid without it being because I'm trying too hard. Digression over.

Anyhow. So things are good. Work was irritating me but I think it's really just me and my misunderstanding of the management organization (read: didn't know that I was supposed to be keeping a different manager up to date on my work because I thought I was just supposed to let MY manager know). But I'm feeling better about things now (hope I didn't jinx myself). With that said, it's time for me to get back to it. I want to make some head way on an issue that is enormous and laborious and I have some prep work to do before smoke testing tonight (yep, working on a Saturday night).

Felt good to write here again, even if it was rambly and not very well put together. That's what I like about my silly, unpopular, stream of consciousness blog. I can just tippity tappity type away and work through how I'm feeling. So yay! And sorry to those who read this and were bored. I'll have to text with Austin in order to get a better post for you three or four readers. Have a great weekend! 

This Will be a Quick Visit

Hi, hi! Austin came to visit me Friday night and stayed through Sunday and we had a BALL! I have lots and lots to write about this visit but my internet went down Saturday and won't be up until Thursday at the earliest so I can't get into it right now (am writing at work).

Instead, I thought I'd bore the internet with my useless observations on the ladies rooms in my work place.

Germ Paranoia
What the hell is wrong with people? I'm not even talking about how filthy and inconsiderate they are - I have given up driving myself crazy trying to figure out what compels women to be so disgusting in a public space - but the needless shit they do out of some sort of germ paranoia and paranoia in general.

Am I the last person to flush a public toilet with my hand rather than my foot? What does flushing with your foot accomplish? Are you going to grapple your toes like a monkey so that you can open the stall door as well? Are you NOT going to wash your hands? Explain it to me. You go in, you pee or whatever you have to do, then you flush with your shoe but you've already touched so many things that are covered in the germs from the last user of that stall. And I'm pretty sure you are not only still going to wash your hands, but use a paper towel to open the door to get back into the atrium area. Then, you are going to swipe your access badge and, sans paper towel, open the door to get into your department.

Go to the bathroom. Do your business. Wash your hands. Don't touch your eyes or mouth. Wash your hands before you eat. You should be fine without all that special ops bullshit.

Weird Paranoia/Paranoia in General
This is a new one and one I've seen in the ladies room on multiple floors of this office. You know how public bathrooms with multiple stalls are set up right? There are two or three or more stalls in a row, you go in, you lock the door, whatev. There are teeny, tiny gaps on either side of the door where you can see through and be seen, but you really would have to be trying if you wanted to see something specific.

The women here? I don't know who they are or who they think they are working with or what they are doing in those stalls, but every so often you find one that has toilet paper hanging to cover the miniscule crack through which light shines through.

Who the fuck is going to come up and spy at you while you are sitting on the toilet? What fucked up, traumatic work environment have you come from that you think this is necessary? No one wants to see you, or if they do, I doubt very much they would do it in such an obvious way and in such a way that they could get caught. Cameras and shit, that's what they would do. Who is going to walk up and peek in on you?

Seriously women, get it together.

FAIL and more FAIL

Life
Broke up with Murdoch. I decided to call it a day because we were clearly on different pages and I didn't like how I felt or who I seemed to be. I felt clingy and needy and I'm neither one and not about to let a guy make me feel that way. I tried calling but, surprise surprise, he didn't answer. So I emailed him, told him I hoped he and his were OK (this was Monday and I barely heard two words out of him since Friday early evening) and then told him I was ending it. He's a lovely guy and I wish him the best but I need more from a relationship. That's fine and it doesn't make me a bad person or high maintenance. He can't or won't give it to me. That's fine, that doesn't make him a bad person. Poor timing I suppose.

People keep asking if I heard back from him and I keep saying "at the end he barely spoke to me when we were together. Why would he talk to me now?"

Disappointing and a bummer but better to get out of it now when I know it just isn't going to work. I gave it a shot and tried my best but some things just aren't meant to be. I'll collect myself, get passed it, and probably sign up for a dating site when I'm ready.

Work
I have no idea what is going on at work but this weird thing happened yesterday. I was in a meeting and I volunteered to do someone's testing and documentation. She was cool with it. I then proceeded to work on it only to find out that my manager asked someone else to do it instead. No explanation as to why but I kind of feel insulted or like I was just given a pat on the head and handed a bouncey ball to play with.

This, obviously, affects my morale, as did the hangover I had yesterday (yesterday was Tuesday and after breaking up with Murdoch I thought "yeah, I'm going to drink too much tonight because that is going to make me feel better"). Did you know you can google "how to waste time at work" and find options? One of my favorites was along the lines of "I've found that no one will question you if you walk around with a clipboard looking serious". That and looking at those demotivational posters is good for a few moments of time murdering. My favorite by far has the caption:

Coming to Work: I don't really mind but, I mean, this eight hour wait to go home is just bullshit.

It is my desktop wallpaper.

In other shitty work news, people can't stop telling me that an old coworker died yesterday. He was a really good guy and worked in IT in the Ohio office. Had been with the company for something like 15 years and was really part of what people like to refer to as "the culture." That office will not be the same. He was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer a few months ago and it moved quickly. It's very sad news and it doesn't get any less sad the number of times you are told.

Fucking cancer.

 

10 Wasted Minutes

She happily began her work day, feeling positive and empowered, willing to take on the world as though she and all the elements were one and she had only to wave her fingers or dangle an ankle to make wondrous things occur.

But then she regretted not meditating that morning, choosing to sleep in instead. The meditation helps the girl get out of her brain for a bit and things take on a new perspective. She’d planned on sitting for twenty minutes, iPod on, listening to a guided meditation to make her feel good, calm, empowered, at peace.

Instead, she slept in. Ghost Boy infiltrated her thoughts more than inner peace and tranquility. She was haunted. And that sucked.

Then it got even better when the girl’s boss and a colleague started asking her, yet again, to do things she had no clue about. She was given a set of crayons and asked to build a CB radio. People all around her were giving her difficult tasks beyond her scope.

So she turned on Radiolab and popped a Klonopin and just chilled to get through the rest of her day. The monsters and assholes will just have to wait. She’s busy.

Continued Life in Texas

It is still hot as fuck here in Texas and there are some really horrible, gross, sickening, big black beetles that have become the things of my nightmares. That's all they are, by the way, according to the two people I've asked. They are just "beetles". And they are disgusting. There is a whole genocide of them along the walkway of the shopping center I frequent and I can't even look at them, let alone trod on their dead carcasses.The awnings in front of store entrances would be good shade providers but I cannot bring myself to do it because of the beetle bodies. I just don't have it in me. And jaysus! If I see an alive one? Let's just not talk about that shall we?

I'm still utterly conflicted about my job. I like the challenges presented but I don't like the whole "not being able to figure this shit out" part of the challenges. And I swear to fucking christ, if Hunter comes to me one more time to do shit that his own god damn business analyst should be doing, I'll flip. I actually already did flip. I emailed him and told him, among other things, "...if you are not providing training to your employees that shit is on you. Do NOT ask me to do the work of one of your direct fucking reports..." And I meant it. He thinks I'm completely stressed out and losing my shit all the time but I finally had to tell him that I'd be way less stressed if I didn't have to deal with his shit. He literally has two BAs that report to him and one of them has been here longer than I. I don't know what the fuck she's been doing all this time but it certainly hasn't been what I'm doing. And I'm not exactly flush with free time trying to do whatever it is that I do do.

Sometimes I feel like crying on my way home from work due to the tension and frustration. Other times I feel like I've figured something out or turned in a good product. I never feel safe or like I know what I'm doing though. But I'm too chicken shit to look for work outside the company. I say it's because I don't want to have a suspension of health benefits but really, I think I'm just a pussy.

*************

Things with Murdoch are ... weird and uncertain as ever. We rarely see one another and we barely speak beyond texts. We also got into an enormous fight the other day, during the work day. I like him, a lot, and I want things to work and am willing to do my part, but there is a lot of uncertainty. His life changed dramatically when he got custody of his younger children and moved. I respect that and appreciate the enormity of his responsibilities. My stress, whilst not on par with his necessarily, still exists and I miss having that boyfriend that I had in April. Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased as punch that he got custody because it was the best thing for his children, but things have changed and I sometimes wonder if I'm dating the same person. And that is all I shall say on the subject because it's not one I feel comfortable talking about.

*************



I am getting used to Texas somewhat, though it's still a shock to me. I like the DMV. I don't like the traffic or the way people cut you off willy nilly (though I'm slowly getting used to that as well). I hate the weather (I think tomorrow is supposed to be 104) but the people are extremely nice and friendly. The thunderstorms are tremendous and they have different birds here than they did in Ohio. I have no clue what they are called, I just know I never noticed them in OH. I miss my friends but I like the people I work with. I joined a gym and even though I've been one time since I signed up two weeks ago, I feel more "at home" for having gotten the membership.

I'm losing weight. Not intentionally but because of stress, forgetting to eat because eventually I'm no longer hungry, and sheer laziness. 85% of my work wardrobe is now too big for me so, as Tits suggested, I'm going to buy one blouse and one skirt/pair of trousers each payday so that I can look decent at work again. I stocked up on cheap summer dresses for my free time (got tired of dressing like a boy) so I'm covered there, but sometimes I look at myself in the mirror at work and think "well someone played dress up in mommy's closet today!" I probably look better than I have in some time what with the weight loss and the tanning. I decided that if I'm in Texas and I can't avoid getting tan, I'm going to do it right. So I bought a two piece bathing suit and have taken to laying out by my community pool on the weekends (note: I cannot swim in my suit. I tried. My top came down). But I'm not taking great care of myself and that needs to change. Today, because Johan is out of veggies, I am forced to go to the grocery store so I'll actually eat something more than a yogurt or piece of cheese for dinner.

*************

And that's all I got. I'll leave you with a few funny (to me) quotes.

"You look like someone who would be into the Hunger Games." ~ said to me by a colleague. We weren't discussing the Hunger Games at all when she said that.

"What is a 'well-hung midget'?" ~ said by Murdoch's daughter after she read about what happens to some unicorns with deformed horns on the internet (Murdoch pretended confusion so I had to cover).

"I'm not mad or nothing..." ~ said by me to Murdoch before our fight. I find it funny because it was an auto correct on my phone and I don't speak like that and people at work think I'm super smart when it comes to grammar.

"Fuck our married, limp dick, paramours and the horses they rode in on." ~ said by me to Tits and I can't remember why.

You're the Monkey, Figure it out Yourself

I'm pretty sure that should be my company's motto. I'd forgotten what it was like being "new" to a job in this piece and what it is like is fucking frustrating. They pretty much give you seven different puzzles to complete only they hold back several pieces of some and mix in the wrong pieces in some of the others. You don't know you are doing something wrong until someone sees it and very condescendingly asks why you did what you did. They expect you to know what you are doing regardless of the fact that you've not been trained or given the tools and you find yourself wanting to poke the asshole in the eye.

I have been copying and pasting the same god damned values into different scripts for about a week or more now. This guy who is supposed to confirm my numbers continually tells me how I'm doing it wrong but only after the fact rather than giving me all the information I need to get this shit done in one go. He's nice enough and maybe it is just the way he carries himself but I swear to god he makes me want to scream. He acts vaguely superior and has said to me, in a very nice way, that I should know how to do whatever I'm asking. He expects me to know shit just because of my job title regardless of the fact that I've only been here a month, had limited training, and do not have a background in this shit. He's been here longer and has had more experience. But dude, really? We are meant to be a team all with the same goal so help a bitch out.

And I don't know what information got passed on because I think the people who interviewed me had a copy of my resume and words from my mouth stating that I'm not technical. They knew my skill set when they hired me. But no one else seems to because this one lady steady comes to me and asks me to look into shit and I just look at her and think "I don't even know where to begin with this". I didn't realize it but Awesome Lady noticed how stressed out I was and sat with me last week to let me know she's going to go to my boss and my boss's boss to let them know they can't expect me to have a full programmer's background and if they keep giving me complex things without training, their going to lose a good employee. She's right, to be honest. A girl can only go home crying throughout the duration of her commute so many times before she gives up.

I sometimes wonder if this move to Texas wasn't a huge mistake. I finally developed a good network of friends only to leave them. I got out of a bad position but I'm still stressed out only now I'm alone. Sure, I have Murdoch, but only sort of. He's what I'm calling a 'Kind Of Boyfriend' since I won't be seeing him any time soon and I don't always hear much from him (he's got a full time job and works from home but now he has a nearly four year old with him during the day). So he's there but kind of not.

But then I remind myself that it doesn't really matter if this was a mistake because there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. So suck it up and just get better.


Totally off topic but.... I'm listening to Morning Edition on NPR and they are talking about the motion to cut SNAP benefits (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Programs). Apparently there is a group called "The Anti Hunger Group". Who, exactly, is "Pro-Hunger?" It's one of those monikers that groups pick to make those who disagree with them seem monstrous. It's like the term "Pro Life". I'm pro choice but that doesn't make me "pro death". See kids, semantics do matter. 

Ughhhh!

So today was another winner, although I did have some good in it. I went to the neurologist's office for my check up only to be told my appointment had been for hours earlier. Awesome. But they were able to squeeze me in and I only had to wait for thirty minutes. It was annoying, aggravating, and embarrassing, but at least I got seen. Even better, I had a full exam and not an abbreviated one like they said I'd have (after treating me like a dick; seriously, I do NOT like office staff at this office). And the good news is that I saw my MRI from September and the nurse practitioner compared it to the last one from January (one I'd had as part of a study) and there was no progression and no disease activity. No black holes either, which I think are supposed to be dead nerves so that's great. And my exam was fine so basically, my MS is stable

The exam is nerve racking. You don't do anything terrible, just walk really fast down to the other red line while they time you, follow fingers, touch your finger to her finger and then to your nose and back, that sort of thing. Oh, and this time I did the 9 peg game which is what it sounds like. With your dominant hand (in my case, the right), pick up one peg at a time and place it in the holes. When you are done, remove them one at a time. Do it again. Now do it with your non-dominant hand. But what makes it horrible is that while you are doing it, at least, if you are me, you feel like you are showing all sorts of problems and suddenly you aren't sure about your control of your limbs and you are just certain that you are going to be told "I'm concerned at the way you did..." But that didn't happen. The only concern the nurse had was the stress and misery I noted on my questionnaire. I'm totally honest on those things and I just told her about work and car issues and Johan. She said she didn't want to change anything because I was doing great with all but the life obstacles and come back in six months for a meet and great with my replacement neurologist (my initial one having buggerd off to Yale).

So, not terrible, right? And I looked super professional because I had an interview scheduled for 3PM for a job I really hope I get. I was in a suit because the recruiter told me it was to be a video conference (it's a transfer within my company) so I dressed like a professional office worker rather than the "well, this is clean and fits" mentality that I usually go in with. I was nervous, of course, but anxious to get it over with. PW set things up for me and showed me what to do if I had to make adjustments. She came back in a few minutes to see that things were OK and then waited with me for 45 minutes as NOTHING HAPPENED. The idiot recruiter (who has been incompetent and unprofessional for ages now) didn't bother to make sure the equipment in her office worked and they had technical difficulties. Took her 45 minutes to decide to cancel and reschedule and I shit you not, she actually said to PW "we'll reschedule for Monday or Tuesday next week and I'll test out the equipment ahead of time." Really genius? That seems like a good idea. You should be in mensa.

Everything about that pissed me off and my fear is that the hiring manager will just go with someone that can walk in for an interview even though she's keen on me. But there is nothing I can do about it but hope that second attempt works because I only have two suits. Stupid bitch. Seriously, I talked to Biddy about it afterwards because he knows the position and the people involved and he actually put me forward for it and he was pretty pissed himself. Not only has he heard me bemoan this person's lack of competence over the last two weeks, he feels like he's being compromised because he put forth a friend and colleague and now that person (moi) is being jerked around. But what can you do?

My day did end on two high notes however. I decided to try my hand at the Inside Out Slugs done properly (otherwise known as this done properly) and although I forgot to look for the seasoning called "savory", I was successful and they were delicious (and also looked far less disgusting). I also found a way to get the eye goo into poor piggy's creepy eye. This is hard to do and I have to hope I'm getting it in there because it is hard to tell. The vet was all, squirt it out of the tube and press his lids together but that doesn't work for me so I have to put it on my finger and try to get it on the eyeball. I'm pretty sure I got it really well done the second two times today, as well as getting his anti inflammatory fully pumped into him. I call that a fucking win. I think his eye might be improving but it is hard to tell since I'm looking at it all the time and so maybe I'm just used to it? I keep giving him extra veggies because I'm afraid I'm stressing him out by man handling him so much and fucking with his eye. I want to make sure he continues to eat and so far, he seems fine. He even kind of pop corned during floor time and wandered around in his usual fashion so hopefully he is more stoic than I. 4.5 to 5 days left of this and I'm done and then just have to take him to the vet for his check up (hopefully). If I think it hasn't improved at all or if it looks worse, I'll have to make an earlier appointment and start talking about surgery. I'm trying to think positively but considering how shitty this year has been, it's a lack luster positivity. I didn't get excited or think much about my interview today because I'm kind of numb and just expecting things to suck. I did get a bit emotional but I don't think I sobbed at any point today so score.

So no sobbing, some set backs, some successes. I feel OK but I'm not about to try and kick the fucking football any time soon.

Survey Says: Cat's Bad Choices in Places to Live!

Where The Fuck Do I Live
I'm sure I must have told you about how I have a habit of tuning shit out and then hear noise and think "are they partying or are they fighting?" And I must have told you how one morning I came out of my apartment on my way to work to find cops cordoning off a neighboring building. It turned out that my neighbor's then boyfriend had held a gun to her head and the cops were waiting for a search warrant to find the gun.

Tonight I stepped out and ran into a reporter and his colleague from NBC 10. They were looking for anyone who knew a former tenant in my building who is presently in a California jail for kidnapping and raping a 15 year old girl.

Where the fuck did I move to? I thought I was moving on up because I live in a fancy city code. Nope! Instead I get attempted assault with a deadly weapon, "honey, don't park over there because there aren't any lights and that is where they attack; here, I'll hold this spot for you" and, now, the knowledge that a former neighbor is a fucking rapist pedophile. What. The. Fuck. I wonder if my mother feels less ill at ease knowing I own a hand gun now that she knows that I evidently live in a somewhat upscale ghetto. Seriously, I live in Westerville, which was, a few years ago, one of the top ten small towns in which to live. I guess they didn't mean my zip code.

In Less Disturbing News
Ran yesterday and went for a 45 minute walk with Tits after work today. It was great fun because we laughed a lot. Highlights included taking a trail that began with some ramshackle house followed by grand houses with palatial yards. "You know they must *love* that neighbor with the fake deer in his yard" she said. They all have the same great view but they live by a guy in a shitty home with a trailer out front. Whatev. I like the guy in the shitty home with the trailer in his yard. He's my people and I hope he continues to be a thorn in the side of money. The other highlight was on our way back when some teenage girls yelled something at us. All Tits caught was the word "penis". I wish I knew what they'd said.

I find it interesting that I'm making more friends these days. It only took me five fucking years. Tits is 41 and a new nurse at work that I'm beginning to know is 33. Who knew I could make friends this late in the game? Well, friends around my age who do NOT move back to FUCKING Florida like a certain BFF I shan't name (but for whom I'm exceedingly happy).

Work Stuff
So. Remember how I flew to Texas to teach another division to do what I do? Well, their clinical director quit and her last day was mid week last week and the girl I trained quit and her last day is next Friday. The higher ups (two of them) in said division are flying out for a meeting with me and a few folks next Thursday so I'm wondering what that is going to be like. I'm assuming they'll tell me I get the wonderful joy of working for them again, you know, since my workload is so scant. Still, it should be interesting. Have I mentioned ClonazoPAM and how much I love it?

I continue to plow through and do my best but even though the anti anxiety medication doesn't make me forget what I have at my door. There are big things coming up, namely reaccredidation, which is something of a nightmare and one I'm not looking forward to. But those who need to seem to know and understand that this is no longer a one woman gig. I keep being told that there are exciting things in store for me and that my position is going to grow and change and so on and so forth. I had a good chat with my boss over instant messenger, one that assured me I wasn't going to have to go back to being a secretary, but I can only believe it and get excited when it actually happens. 'tis my nature.

Still, perhaps the tides are finally turning in my favor? After all, I got a bill from a medical center for just under $640 and, even though my health insurance company explained why I owed it, I didn't freak out and I've worked it out that I can pay $25 per month starting next month. So that is good.

What I do know for a fact is that I will make damned sure to have a diet Coke with me tomorrow morning. I had to settle for diet Pepsi and look how my day turned out! 

Poof

Breaking the Camel's Back

It's always fun to find new levels of pain that our bodies will dredge up when we find that we are, in fact, more stressed than we've ever been. Nice to know I have something to look forward to and that I can never say "well, at least it can't get worse." The usual insomnia and hysterical crying jags are par for the course (though the frequency of said crying jags has increased) but the tensing up of neck muscles as soon as I hit a road near my office and the clenching of my jaw throughout the day is not. Nor is the acid reflux I developed for a few days. That's what acid reflux is? What a bitch I am for thinking it couldn't be that bad. It's like with allergies; I used to think allergies just meant you were a pussy and then I realized that no, that's not what it is. And I didn't even develop any myself. But reflux, oy vey. And it just seems counter-intuitive to me that when it happens I need to eat. I feel like I'm about to throw up any moment and I'm supposed to put food on it? Ooph.

So yes, stress. Work has had me bent over for so long now that my knees are locked in place. Just the constant demands on my time from people who like to tell me how busy they are all the time. Whenever people say "we've just been too busy" I want to punch them in the throat because what the fuck? I'm busy too, partly because these assholes are clueless and disorganized and are just plain assholes. But my manager appears to have spoken with someone because all of a sudden the frequent requests/demands have stopped. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop however, waiting for the head of the division that has been the noose around my neck to pull back on the rope. My friend tells me not to worry unless or until something comes up but I find that difficult a lot of the time because I despise the unknown. So my neck tenses up and my body refuses to relax enough to sleep.

Medical Madness

Saw my neurologist on Friday. We went through the usual exam and he said I was fine and he had no worries. He's leaving for Yale in December and I'll see one of his colleagues, all of whom he says are nice people. "I don't need them to be nice, " I said, "I just need them to be good." His response was "well, you aren't what I'd call a difficult patient." Lovely compliment.

But I'm glad that he doesn't foresee me having any issues. Still, I have a follow up MRI on September 7, when we'll see if I have any new inflammation (fingers crossed). And he prescribed me an anti anxiety medication at my request, because work is so stressful. Maybe it is a placebo effect or maybe it is already working but suffice it to say, it is my new best friend.

Respite

Upstairs Kid and I went shooting on Saturday. I did really poorly at first. My stance was off, I wasn't using the proper part of my finger to shoot, and I wasn't sure which eye to use. I eventually settled on the left, UK corrected how I was holding my arms and reminded me to use the flesh of my finger pad only. I improved greatly. And I had a great time. As we left the range, we saw a small plane flying low. I got it into my head that there might be an airshow and said "do you want to have an adventure?" UK was all for it so we did a U Turn and found the Fairfield airport, one of those small ones for private planes. We stumbled upon a historic airplane museum which was tiny and a bit sad but super fun because I got to sit in these little war replica planes an jeeps and such. We also got to see sky divers come in, those who took off at the other end of the hanger. Total fun.


From there we decided to cap the day with lunch and he suggested Rusty Bucket and swore he knew where it was. He sort of did but he'd gone there by bike so we got a bit turned around before finding it. As soon as we arrived I received a text from a number I didn't recognize. "I was thinking about you and hope you are doing OK. Take it for what it is ... take care." I didn't need Columbo or Sherlock to help me figure out that it was most likely Stalker. I forwarded it to Hunter so he could look up the number and yep, Stalker indeed. I received a second, garbled text about an hour later. "My dog and I didn't expect to get a reply but we wish you would". At least, I think that is what it said but it was really fucked up because he was drunk and/or high. Lovely. Fortunately, that was the end of it and I haven't heard from him since and when I returned to work on Monday, I didn't look at him. He did email me a forward to see if an issue that was closed had really been taken care of and I simply replied "no. For more detail please see the telecom worker involved." No wiggle room there. If he approaches me again Hunter said he'd call him and see what his problem is. Friends in high places.

Emotional

So Friday was a good medical appointment and, for the most part, a great Saturday. I stayed at UK's place that night because we went out drinking so I crashed on his floor. Got up at 7:30 a.m. and went to drive home but hit a fucking curb fucking up my rim. The tow truck guy was nice and even researched my preferred shop. Dropped car off, went back to UK's place to watch a couple episodes of "Deadliest Warrior"*, and eventually got the call that they put a spare on and would call me when they had the rim. Went home and crashed.

And then.... J called me on Sunday and told me that he wanted to let me know that he felt bad about not responding to my emails. He knows it's over and that I don't want to be his wife but he still loves me and so when I email him, it consumes him. I didn't know. We had an emotional conversation. In the end, I told him I'd stop emailing until he was ready and he reached out. It was a terrible conversation but a funny one because he always makes me laugh. He said goodbye by saying "well, it's been good crying with you but I think I should go." We talked about how he is really angry at me but really sad and can't help but love me. We talked about how he's so full of hate and anger and I just wish he could use it for good for once (it's true, he's an angry guy) and he said he's tried that but it doesn't work. I told him that whenever he calls I'm afraid he's going to yell at me and he said he thinks that's what I want because it will make me feel less guilty. "No, J, that isn't what I want. I'm terrified when you yell. And nothing will make me feel less guilty."

There were a few jokes about the pig, about how I signed papers giving him custody but that I have to pay for his maintenance and medical care. J also needs me to watch him from now until the pig dies. But still, Johan is no longer mine. The pig always distracts us from crying for a bit.

But yeah, tomorrow is D day. I have directions. I have my outfit planned (professional to show that I'm treating the occasion with respect). I have anti anxiety medication.

I have no idea how I'm going to hold my shit together.

The end

As you can see, I'm a bit scattered. I've been working on this post for awhile and I just can't write with any sense of cohesive narrative. I'm hoping the new meds help. Or maybe I'll go back to drawing pictures. Who knows? Who cares?

Sundae

 God I'm Dumb
As anyone who knows me knows, and anyone who has read my blog has learned, I am almost always riddled with bruises and at least one skinned knee. I used to think it was just a matter of moving too fast and not paying attention, of being preternaturally clumsy. But I've realized that much of it has to do with something much more stupid. Sure,  I take the occasional tumble, but who doesn't? And OK, I did once trip over my own feet after hanging up the phone (this was back in the day when I lived with my family and we had the old school attached to the wall phone). I did once fall for no good reason whilst walking with J. But, after falling three times in one night the other day, I took a look around and realized that I've made my home into a fucking obstacle course. I really need to paste a note to my door saying "if I die and it looks like there was a struggle, do not automatically assume I was murdered" because my home is a disaster and it's almost as though I have set it up on purpose, my own personal gauntlet. Of course I fucking trip and fall all the time. I have all sorts of shit in the middle of my rooms and in the dark, I have no chance of making it to the lamp or my bed without stepping on something or tripping over something. I'm lucky I haven't broken my neck yet.

I really need to clean this place up. I am, I am certain, the stupidest girl on the planet. "Hmm, I think I'll put this box right here, two steps from my doorway so that I can trip over it." "I've just gotten home from a business trip and so I think I should put my suitcase immediately in front of my front door so that I'll know where it is and, if I get home late and in the dark, I can take a nice head dive into the carpet. Perfect!"

Fire! 

Upstairs Kid and I went to the gun range on Saturday. It took us about 2 hours to get there because some asshole stole my GPS and so we were going by directions he copied from google and we just somehow got lost. We had fun and laughed a lot but it was damned annoying; more so when we got lost on the way back. But we got to the range and he picked up his pistol, his Bonnie to my Clyde, and I did my best shooting to date. I'm still nowhere near a good shot but I've gotten more familiar with my Beretta and I have a better understanding of how to hold it in order to improve my accuracy. It drives my mother nuts that I own a weapon and that I go shooting but it's all purely recreational for me. I do not own my gun for self defense purposes; as UK pointed out, if you have it for self defense, you must reconcile yourself to being able to kill someone. I don't think I have that in me, not even if I'm being attacked. I suppose that speaks poorly of my self preservation skill but I just don't know that I could take a life. So Clyde is never loaded in my home, even now that I've 'earned' my ammo (I bought it when I bought the gun but UK kept it until I passed his test of improving my shooting). It is always safe in my home. It is locked up and the magazines and chamber are always empty.

But lord do I love shooting. I don't really know what it is. I like feeling connected to what I'm doing, which is why I am not a fan of 22s, even though I understand they are good for practice. I like having a tie to something I'm doing. I like building a skill. And I like the power of the weapon. I don't like when the guy in the next lane is firing a 500 revolver that sounds like a cannon and makes me jump and unable to shoot. Even UK had to stop until dude had finished.He told me he felt wind from the guy's revolver and he thinks his head probably shook. It was bizarre and we were happy when he stopped. But thems the breaks.

Travel

Yes, I had a miserable time getting home but I made it. On my flight from Texas to Detroit, there was a woman with a 2 year old and a 2 month old in the seats in front of me. The 2 year old start screaming for the last half hour of the flight. I don't think he was even crying, just screaming to let his mother know he was unhappy. I remember thinking "why do kids have such high pitched screams?" The weirdest thing is that that 2 month old only cried for a bit, having been woken up by his big brother. When the plane landed, the mother apologized to everyone because you know, no one wants to be "that" person with the screaming child. I told her "my brother has a 3 and a half year old and 6 month old. He just traveled home for a visit from Abu Dhabi and I don't know how he and his wife do it. Also, how did your infant not know that when his big brother started, he was supposed to join in for some tag team yelling?"

I actually spoke with Teacher on Saturday because he is in Arizona and it was his birthday. I told him how I don't know how he and the wife do it, the 19 hour travel days with two kids, car seats, and a stroller. Yes, I fell apart and had to have Hunter help me be an adult but at least I didn't have anyone else to worry about and I didn't have the cumbersome luggage that parents do. Screaming children on a flight are a nightmare and I resent them totally but I also know that it is worse for the parent because they have to deal with it as well and they have the guilt and worry about what other passengers are thinking. I also know that children don't have the same coping skills as adults and so they don't necessarily understand that the discomfort is going to end. I've come a long way from when I was a teenager and just despised children and looked at parents of the screamy with disdain. Because honestly? When the 2 year old was screaming I got so upset that I wanted to start screaming myself.

Work...of course

I wrote to my Viking again, finally. I haven't written in ages and I like to think it is because I've been busy. Really, I have no excuse. But I finally wrote to her again and I realized, yet again, that I really seem to only work these days. Yes, I have Broad Summit once a month and I am on a more regular schedule for shooting with UK, but my god I've become a dull person! It's just that I really like what I do, I have a ton that I need to take care of, and honestly, I'd rather work than think about going to the courthouse on August 29th to end my marriage. I never thought I'd be the type of person, be the type of adult, who threw themselves into work to avoid difficult personal things. Ending my marriage with J is the right thing to do. I know that. We've now been separated for over a year and so I should be able to move on. But it's hard. I know many people don't understand how I can still have such guilt but, as I tell them, you don't know until you've been through it. I won't bore you again with how I feel about J or about my feelings on the matter. I will simply say, instead, that, even after all this time, I'm still not OK about it. He's found a job finally. He told me because he didn't want me to find out when we were in court, like I'm a stranger. I was so happy to hear it because he's been looking for years and he's wanted to get out of academia. He's going to look for a new partner and now he has a job. He's moving on. I'm so happy for him. And here I wanted to be in control to make sure he'd be OK and he's doing it all on his own. The hubris of humans.

I need to let go. I know that. I think people might say that I need to forgive myself for what happened. Even J has said to me in the past that it wasn't all my fault. I just somehow need to figure out how that is true.Because right now, right now, I feel like shit.

Waldo

Where have I been? If you'd asked me on Wednesday, I'd have said on a business trip in Texas. But then Thursday happened. I took a flight to Detroit, where I arrived at 6:15 EST for my 8PM flight. This flight was delayed until 10:25 when I landed, then 1:30 a.m. At 1:30 a.m. I was awoken from my place on the floor at the gate where I'd fallen asleep to find that my flight had been canceled. I was placed on a flight for 8:40 the next morning and took a shuttle to a hotel. This morning I arrived at the airport in good time to find I'd left my wallet at the hotel. To my credit, I'd had three hours of sleep at the most. I was told the shuttle driver had another run at 8 and he'd bring it. At 8:35 I called, yet again, and found that he'd come and gone without seeing me and left my wallet with a security agent. I spent a frantic few moments harassing the staff until I got my wallet back, intact (holler to the Comfort Suites staff).  I missed my morning flight but got onto a new one and so made it home.

Props go out to Hunter as well as the shuttle driver who returned my wallet. I called him in a puddle of hysterics and he was there for me on several calls telling me what I needed to do, promising that I'd get home TODAY, and not making fun of me one bit for being an idiot or being upset. Again, I'd had three hours of sleep and spent 7 hours in the Detroit airport, which does not have wi fi. Zero internet and minimal emotional stability. Hunter has traveled quite a bit in his years at our company and he is my best friend so I turned to him immediately and he did not let me down. I'm fucking lucky to have the friends I do and, as BFF said "I'm so glad Hunter took care of you." I owe him, big time.

But yes, I was actually in Texas for a business trip, arriving Sunday night. I was ridiculously nervous and terrified but it went well, me being the most professional person in the room and them treating me like some sort honored dignitary. There were some bumps but I think it was a success in a number of ways. I helped rebuild our relationship, proved that I'm serious about working with them and helping them succeed, and I proved that I am a professional and competent employee who can be trusted with resposibility.

More fun was visiting with friends. I spent some time with Hunter of course, but I also had lunch with a different IT division, chatted with a guy in yet another IT division, and did a tour of the mail room where they send out my recruitment letters. As I told my boss, I maintained my relationship across divisions because that is the best way of ensuring good customer service.

One of the best parts of the trip happened on Tuesday. Hunter flew to IL on Monday for a presentation for a potential client and, on Tuesday, he stopped by my hotel for a drink on his way back from the airport. I excused myself to use the ladies room and when I came back, the general manager of my division was there talking to him about why he was there. When that man left, Hunter looked at me and said "you know he thinks I'm fucking you, right?" As PW put it when I told her (because she knows I'm terrified of this particular GM), "that's one way of climbing the corporate ladder." Considering that all the IT folks I hung out with are men, I'm happy that the division I was there to work with is comprised of women. Reputations and all.

I arrived in Columbus at about 11:45 this morning, grabbed my bag, which had been gate checked, and took a shuttle to my car. I then drove to the vet to pick up the pig, stopped by the office to do one task, went to the grocery store for some food, and came home. Tomorrow I am going to the gun range with Upstairs Kid. I look forward to the stress relief of shooting Clyde as well as the time away from work (because otherwise, I'd totally be working). He's picking up a pistol he bought, his Bonnie, and we'll get to shoot that as well. Everyone I know who knows I have this appointment is very happy indeed as it is my being social and getting out of the house. I almost canceled due to my flight arrangements, but knew it was something I really needed to do. See, it isn't all work with me!

So now I'm drinking some beer and watching "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" for the fifth time, courtesy of Red Box. Not a bad end to my day.

Dancing Bird of Paradise

Hablamos Burger King

I've been watching Dateline episodes on the internet, much to my great joy. Sure, I've been doing pretty well without television but mainly because I was subscribing to Hulu until recently and hadn't watched my DVDs  a hundred times (which I now have). I recently discovered that you can watch Dateline on the NBC website and so huzzah! I do like true crime, Lester Holt, Dennis Murphy, and Keith Morris (Morrison?). But what is with the Burger King commercial that only plays in Spanish? It's for a barbeque sandwich with sweet potato fries so I'm not really getting the link. Is Dateline's web audience predominately what we like to refer to as 'Latino'? I might not have noticed it if it weren't for the fact that internet 'television' has a habit of playing the same two commercials over and over and over again (when I was watching a marathon of an old BBC series called Teachers, I wanted to stab myself in the eyeballs every time the Greyhound Vodka commercial came on).

Other than the BK commercial en espanol solomente (I have no idea if that is correct), I only have one issue with Dateline. Why is it that they only have programs featuring pretty white women? OK, I did see two in which the women were Brazilian and ... uh, were they both Brazilian? And I'm talking about the murder mystery ones, not the news coverage ones. It's pretty much just pretty white (or light skinned) chicks getting killed or being accused of killing their husbands. I have a feeling it has to do with "socioeconomic" factors or "economic disparity." Which is just a fancy way of saying "people are more interested in learning about murder mysteries that involve the wealthy and white people are the wealthy people. But Typhoid Mary wasn't wealthy. I mean, OK, she didn't exactly murder people but it's still really interesting and she was, essentially, a lunch lady.

Weekend

I finally went back to the gun range recently. Upstairs Kid and I decided to try a new place, one further north, and we really liked it. I'm not really sure what it was. They have outdoor and indoor ranges, it is in a nice area, and it just seemed clean and nice. That and the young guy UK talked to about a specific pistol really knew his shit and wasn't trying to upsell him (UK is, in fact, getting a Bonnie to go with my Clyde [which I own out right as of today, having paid UK the last $75]). And I did my best work with a pistol thus far. My accuracy wasn't fantastic but it was much better for me and I felt more confident. Now that my life is a bit more settled, I'm hoping UK and I can go every other Saturday and so we are going to look into getting a membership at one of the places we've visited. Unfortunately, the place we went today probably won't win out due to price. But! I did get to see a guy wearing a shirt that said "Pavlov Rings My Bell" and that tickled me.

Other weekend fun included the following:

1. A nice long walk. I think of myself as an extrovert because I'm inappropriate and love to make people laugh. I'm also very social at work. But once the end of my shift hits, I don't want to talk to anybody. That's part of why I don't really do anything on the weekends (well, that and I don't have friends in state who are available/willing to hang out with me... aww). Going with UK to shoot was the most social I'd been in awhile. But I also tend to stay indoors because I read so damned much and don't like the sun. This troubles certain people and I think one very good friend worries about my being cooped up all the time. So I felt a bit embarrassed about my lifestyle and thought "you know, maybe I should take advantage of the nice day we are having." So I took a lovely three or four mile walk (this time on the correct side of the road, the one with the side walks) and really enjoyed myself. 
2. Watching movies. J and I saw the second Sherlock Holmes movie in the theater and whilst we agreed it was beautifully shot, neither of us thought it was as good as the first. However, I found that I enjoyed it more on the second, third, and fourth viewing*. I also rented Contraband because it was the only thing that tripped my trigger. I'm hoping it gets better on the second viewing.
3. Helping a Japanese neighbor move a dresser from by the dumpster into his apartment. I was a bit jealous as I'd seen that dresser and wished I could have it but I knew I couldn't move it myself. He'd already salvaged the drawers and I just caught him as he came for the bulk of the piece. So I offered to help him. He informed me that he is the "sushi man" at the Kroger across the street and said he'd bring me sushi tomorrow as a thank you. Whilst I do enjoy sushi, I assured him that was not necessary. After all, I know what it is to have help whilst moving. 
4. Going for another walk because I'm a masochist. OK, yes, the walks were nice and on the second I found Innis Gardens, which is simply gorgeous, but I keep going during the peak of the heat and my feet hurt like eight bitches in a bitch boat. Sure I brought water with me these last two times but one walk was 90 minutes and the other two hours. In 90+ heat. I remain the smartest person on Earth.

So, all in all, not a bad weekend. 

*I have a tendency to watch the same thing over and over again. Some people understand this but others find it infuriating.

Bits and Bobs
After that lovely weekend I returned to work for a Monday that lasted 10.25 hours. I was weirdly focused though so it wasn't as terrible as it could have been and then I came home to something pretty stellar. OMG but have you seen this? I am in love with this person now.

And: Sally Ride died. I told Hunter, via IM (he was in DC working ungodly hours on some sort of I don't know) and he said "who's that?" My reply? "Sigh... first woman in space. She had cancer." Hunter: "That's too bad. Do you know what kind?" Simply: "Yes. Space cancer.... no, just kidding, pancreatic."* 

Also, remember 50 Shades? Well, a friend of mine reviewed them on Good Reads and it made me want to know what happened in the books, like the actual plot (as far as there is one). So I went on Amazon and found some of the funniest fucking reviews ever. This is the review of the second and here is the third. I loved these reviews because the author enjoyed the books but was totally honest about them. Once again, the reviews of these books is the best thing about them I've found thus far. That and talking to Jilly Bean who just finished the first one because it cracks her up when I say things like "I'd be way more gracious about accepting shit from Christian. Wanna give me a car and a brand new computer? OK, I'll blow you for that." 

Finally: I've decided I'm going to make up an assistant. Whenever I have to contact anyone currently on our panel or anyone in our company with something that I think they will find annoying, I'm going to sign the letter with "Tony Flags, Credentialing Assistant" so that people can be annoyed with 'the boy' and not me. Tony Flags is a name I got from watching an episode of the Graham Norton Show. Antonio Banderas and Chris Martin were guests and Martin was talking about having a boring name. He said he'd looked up and found that banderas is Spanish for 'flags' and so Antonio Banderas is really Tony Flags, a name the actor actually uses at hotels from time to time. Thus, whenever anyone is upset with me, they won't know it and will, instead, be upset with Mr. Flags.

*Oh calm down. I was just annoyed that he didn't know who she was right off that bat and I got all "she's a woman so of course you don't know" which is totally unfair because Hunter isn't some misogynistic idiot. 

Wanna Ride My Pony?

This is lame

I just remembered that the other night I dreamed that I had a paper towel holder. Not the kind attached to the cabinets, like I had at my last place, but the stand alone kind. It apparently came with my new place. I was so stoked. I remembered this dream as I was pulling out a new role of paper towels and it was a real buzz kill.

This is Life
I had an interesting time at work. One moment I felt like I was getting a lot done and the next I felt like I wasn't getting anything taken care of. That's what happens when you know you have a pile of "oh my god" needs on your plate but you are taking care of loose ends to clear the way. I also had moments where I was super confident followed, almost immediately after, with confusion and ridiculousness. I was talking to Suzy about a project that needed Texas physicians and I was all confident and smart and on top of shit. Then one of her colleagues started asking me questions about what I thought was the same project and I was getting frustrated and all "don't you fucking people talk to one another" only to realize, an embarrassingly long time later, that she was talking about something else all together, the only link being Texas. The bipolar roller coaster of my working life. Riding high one minute, in my element, and then crashing down back into my stupidity. Awesome.

I also spent a weird amount of time combing through my archived emails in order to answer one department's question about physician reimbursement and the legal department's question about an original contracted agreement. I do not work for finance, legal, or contracts. But then, I also do not work for marketing but have been involved in all manner of discussions in which they say "Cat, where do you go to find a medical director?" Very few people in my company take the time to figure out what it is that I am actually responsible for. Many, many people decide and assume what I am responsible for and, some how, I am the one who looks pathetic and stupid. It's kind of rad. But I'm looking on the bright side as best I can and here is what I have so far.

1. New hours. On my old Manager's last day, I decided I wanted to work 7:30 to 4:30 instead of 8-5. I didn't ask *anyone, I just changed it. After all, New Guy isn't that interested in approving my PTO request for August 29 (date of my dissolution court date) or my request to have the correct building access for my badge (made July 1) so I don't think he'd care. 
2. Ability to actively work with other divisions. Old Manager was antagonistic and refused to allow me to work in a congenial and productive way with other divisions. It was part Napoleon complex and part in-group out-group bias and it affected everyone but him. Now I can help and do my thing and we all benefit in various ways. And really, it's a weird relief. Plus, I get to build on my professionalism. Score!
3. Working from home. I did this last Wednesday and yesterday and am thinking of asking New Guy if I can do this once a week because I get a ton of shit done on those days and it is the stuff that needs to be done ASAP. He doesn't give me a hard time about it or anything. 
4. Education. Yes, it drives me crazy that people don't bother to ask what it is I actually do and so assume and make shit up. However, because New Guy is telling people I do more than I actually do, I'm learning new things that will help me out and help me expand my skill set. So yea. 

So yes, I am in a transition phase and it is interesting and frustrating and rewarding and I'm doing my best to take advantage of it. I'm also so grateful because since Old Manager left, I'm way less jumpy and fucked up than I used to be. I still justify everything without anyone asking* but I'm more relaxed and better able to focus. I'm still hoping for the best and expecting the worst but I find that I'm getting way more done and I have way less anxiety. So, really, score.

 *One thing I really like doing that few enjoy is expense reporting. Therefore, I do this for my friends when they ask or when they take me up on my offer. Hunter hates expense reporting and so I offered to take care of it for him. Today I asked him to go in and update his profile in the program we use so that I can get email notifications. "Email notifications are helpful to me because they allow me to know when a charge hits your card." OK, Hunter hates doing expense reports and I'm nice enough to do them. Hunter is also my best friend... why the fuck am I justifying this request?

Bam!!!!!

On Monday my boss stopped by my cubicle first thing and I asked him how his time off the previous week had been. He very casually told me all that he'd done, including getting married, which he hadn't really mentioned to anyone (the plans to do so that is). I wasn't that shocked because I've known this man for four years and always figured it was just a matter of time before he wed for the third time so someone he dated for only a few months (though he has actually known this woman for about ten years, they've only had a romantic relationship for about four months). So congratulations and isn't this fun and oh what a shock and can we get back to work?

On Tuesday my boss asked me if I liked Dr. Doe, our assistant medical director. Of course I do and I said as much to which my boss then said "good because you are most likely going to be reporting to him. I've tendered my resignation as of next Friday."

That one surprised me way more and I went through a weird series of emotions. Extreme giddiness at the prospect of no longer working for this man. Terror at the prospect of reporting to someone worse or losing my job for some reason. Anxiety and fear that this won't be true in the end and he'll end up staying and I'll have to start looking for a job as I'd planned. Oh! That's right! If he leaves I don't have to do so! <-- to say relief. I was pretty much in shell shock. And everyone was pissed.

We still are. I had lunch with Boss (not to be confused with Manager, the asshole I work for) today and we discussed it, how this man just said "fuck you" to everyone who works with him because he wants to give the finger to the higher ups. My boss has a very high position with a very particular set of skills. He should have given at least a month, if not two, notice. Instead he gave seven days because he resigned on Tuesday, is taking vacation time this Friday, and will most likely peace out early next Friday. He just said fuck you to so many people who have done their best to play his games and stroke his ego and nurture a decent working relationship because he does, actually have responsibilities. But he sees no trees, only forest, so he set it all ablaze.

I am happy for him because he has a great opportunity ahead of him but I'm pissed off because this is just the biggest slap in the face to me and everyone else. Why bother staying until next Friday? Two of the most important people, two who will be very greatly affected, are overseas and one, who directly reports to manager, is not due back into the office until after Manager's last day. Ass. Fucking. Hole.

But then I realized something today and I swear it felt like a high. Manager has checked out and so now I can check out on his ass. I will still do my work, the work that others rely on, but any requests from him that seem like they have anything to do with his new job will just have to wait because I don't have to give a fuck. I'm not going to be too flagrant about it because, after all, what if he ends up staying? But it feels good knowing that there is a chance I can stop kissing his ass soon, that maybe I'll have a decent manager, one who doesn't treat me so badly that others comment on it behind my back ("God I feel sorry for her. He treats her like shit; have you ever heard the way he talks to her?")

In the meantime I will just do my best to maintain perspective. He's always been a very good friend but he's been such a shitty manager and so awful to me as my employer that I, at times, forget about the friendship and the fact that he is a human being. Like I said, I'm happy for him. I'm happy because I know he wanted to get married again and honestly, our parent company has treated him like shit for years. But it wasn't all everyone against him; he has his part of the blame and he never accepted it. And now he is taking it out on the wrong people. He's treated me like shit for ages and that is one thing, but to see the way he expects other people in the office who have saved his ass time and again to say "yeah, fuck the man" with him is appalling.

I'm happy for my friend.

I hate my manager and want to poke him in the eye.

And as always, I hope for the best and expect and prepare for the worst.

UPDATE

I texted him this evening and asked if I could work from home tomorrow as it is my first anniversary of being diagnosed with MS. His response was "If you feel you need to, yes." Either he is really bad with words or he really is a dick.

Broad Summit - June

It started for two reasons. The first is that a colleague left the company and a few of us wanted to keep in touch. I was asked to arrange something, most likely because I'm an administrative assistant and I, the asshole that I am, thought "yes, I AM an administrative assistant but not, you know, the world's admin, so if you want to drink, by god, I'm shoe horning my way in and drinking with you." We got together a couple of times, catching up and having a good time. Then, because I'm so desperate for friendship and wanting to make it last, I tenaciously fought to get the group together every so often. We now aim for monthly meetings and I've been named the founder (foundress) because I keep it all together.

I love these women. They are smart, capable, loving, kind, loyal, and just phenomenal. Each meeting goes the same way. We begin by bitching about work, swapping gossip, and assuring one another that, no, it isn't you, things are stupid/fucked up/ridiculous. We get heated over horrible fried food and alcohol, then move on to jokes and real life issues, things in our personal lives. And it is so satisfying. There is so much support and love and just the right amount of ribbing to make it the best night of the month. It happens on a Wednesday in the middle of the month because that is when we really need it. Ready to slit our wrists, about to pull the razors out, but we have to put a hold on it so that we can meet up. Then we meet and everything is OK again.

They really are a great bunch and I love them all. SS helped me move. Poison Ivy asked me, kindly, how J handled the paperwork yesterday. She-Ra gave me a lovely house warming gift though it was totally unnecessary. And Super Girl (Golden Rod)? Super Girl was initiated seamlessly.

I truly think it is what we all want. We have our friends outside of work, maybe in town, maybe across the country, but we want girlfriends at work who can commiserate about things that we deal with 9 hours a day, 40 hours a week. We want to be able to discuss work, rail and whine, and then we want to be regular non work girlfriends again. I'm the founder only because I'm the most desperate and so I do my best to make sure we make it an appointment, a priority, something that we have to do. And we all love it. I hate setting it up, don't like the responsibility, but it is so worth it for the couple of hours a month I have to let my hair down with these women, so that we can all just be ourselves and be accepted. Tomorrow I'll go in and we will all look at one another with secret smiles, gratitude, slyness, etc. But we will be our professional selves.

But we will all know that we have this little exclusive club that we belong to and we will all look forward to the next meeting of the Broads. In September we hope to have our First Annual Winey Broads meeting in which we'll visit Ohio wineries.

No matter what happens, we are bound.

I don't hate this post but I don't feel anything warm towards it

All Work and Some Reading
I made it to page 430 of 50 Shades of Grey and then I wrote a negative review of it on Good Reads and then I spit on it and returned it to the library. OK, I didn't really spit on it. But I did shove it with unnecessary force through the drop off slot at the library. It deserved it. Fortunately, Catching Fire came in the very next day and so I wasn't long without a good book. It took me three days and now I have about six weeks to wait for the final book in the trilogy. OK, full disclosure, I finished CF last night but I was tipsy so I need to reread the last two or three chapters but I can't seem to find the damned thing. Like I said, I was tipsy. Hey, it was Friday night after a l-o-n-g week.

Every week is long these days, really. I'm in the process of learning to manage others and I'm not really enjoying it. One of the people assisting me doesn't provide me with updates as often as I'd like (or as often as I've asked) and the other updates me with this weird sense of seriousness and what I can only think of as a "dire" attitude. She's very nervous and hesitant and seems to be afraid of just diving in. It's just data entry but she's stated that the learning process and the weeding through has been a real challenge. I feel bad because I really like her and she's told me that she enjoys the work and is excited about it so I can't just yank it away from her. But I can switch it up and give her the same sort of task only one that is more straightforward. The one who doesn't update me often enough I'll talk to at our next status meeting, which I've scheduled weekly. I need to stress the fact that the work has deadlines and I need to know where she is with what she is doing on a more reliable basis. I also need to know that she truly can devote X numbers hours a week if that is what she's promised and how many hours it takes for her to complete task A B or C. If not, no big deal, I just need to know. So yeah, not enjoying this but I'm doing my best to understand that I have to do it and I have to allow for the reality that I CANNOT DO EVERY SINGLE THING. Shudder.

Dreamer, Packer, Eater, Chef
Woke up before 7 a.m. again today, a weird new Saturday habit. Was extremely exhausted of course, so I just huddled on my couch and watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. I liked it but I'm not exactly sure why. I like mysteries of this type, no gore or car chases or anything like that, just intrigue and a search for an answer. It takes place during the Cold War and there is a mole in British intelligence and this older guy who was forced out is asked by a minister (Prime? I don't know) to find the mole*. Very straight forward. However, I didn't read about it so I didn't know it was set during the Cold War until I finally looked it up after obsessively trying to figure out, based on clothing, whether the film took place in the past or present. That's usually pretty easy but when you're watching something about a bunch of government men, you pretty much mainly just see men in suits. In retrospect I did think "well, I guess men probably don't wear suits to work every day anymore. Duh".

The other thing I fixated on was this actor who had a baby face. He didn't look young, he looked like a giant baby. It was really bizarre. Do you remember those old cartoons that played with Bugs Bunny and Wiley Coyote and the like, the ones with the gangsters? There was one that had the baby face and I kept thinking of him when this actor was on the screen. It wasn't funny - it was really, super, ultra creepy. But Colin Firth and Benedict Cumberbatch were also in the movie so I just looked at them and felt happy and warm.

Then I took a quick nap and dreamed I was packing so when I woke up, I packed. Oh! I just remembered that in my dream I came across a whole slew of wooden utensils, packs of them like I'd bought a nice set, forgotten about it, bought another one, and had also been gifted a set. I wonder what kind of life dream me had that required so many wooden spoons and forks and so on and so forth? Really glad I don't actually have them. Real me just has a lot of big knives, some butcher, some serrated, some others.

And now? Now I need to clean and run to the store for soda (generic diet Coke if you're interested... even if you aren't, that's what I'll get) and fight the temptation to take another nap.

*Reread this after my update (below) and saw that I originally wrote "file the mole." Under M, I would think. 

UPDATED

Gahhhhh!!!! Why the hell do kids look so forward to being grownups? I've never understood that and I feel I was always totally right to think it would suck quite a bit.

I set about doing some chores and decided to vacuum, the most odious of chores due to my shitty vacuum and the abundance of hay all around (ahem, Lord and Master likes his hay). Well, the vacuum decided to not suck up anything, not even try. So I set about the lovely task of taking out the canister, checking the filters, and taking the fucker apart, getting filthy, sweating over getting the little screws out, and then throwing my hands in the air and saying "fuck this shit" before putting on proper clothing (read: what I wore yesterday), throwing the 50 Shades* item into the dumpster, and driving to Target where I purchased a insanely expensive** new one. Sweaty and annoyed, I am now home, having put together the Shark Navigator Lift-Away and trying it out. I think it might be a success but I was pretty excited about my old Bissel so who knows. Here's hoping.

*That is my new way of defining truly disagreeable items in life. If they are really worthless and terrible, they are 50 Shades. Thus, my 50 Shades of vacuum has been thrown, with vigor, into the dumpster. 

**Well, expensive for me. It turned out to be $190 something and I know for a fact that a friend of mine who shall remain nameless and only be known as Shunter happens to have a belt that costs more. My vacuum cost less than a belt. But still.

Monster in My Portmanteau

In which I'm rather judgmental 
Hmm, really? Anarchists my ass. Me thinks these young men watch a wee bit too much "Fight Club".

Also, who didn't see this coming? No, really, who out there sat over a cup of tea with a friend saying "say what you will, but at least she has some principles" as though those principles were made of adamantium? When I first read that she wouldn't do porn my thought was "bitch you stupid" (yes, 'bitch you stupid' is literally how I thought it). I mean, come on, you have fourteen kids; what kind of day job do you foresee yourself having to take care of them all? And are you really going to be working a nine to five job? Me thinks not.

Maxwell Drew?  My first thought was that they didn't know they'd had a girl. BFF, who was weirdly concerned about her girl Jess because she looked uncomfortable at the end of her pregnancy, said they'd call the baby Maxie for short. Maxie Johnson? Is that not a terrific porn name? As Birdy said "if she was the heiress to a million dollar industry, I'd feel bad for the kid." I do like Maxwell Drew for a boy though.

In which I'm fucking stupid

I forgot my wallet today. I'm not exactly sure how I manage to do that but I frequently leave my wallet at home on days I don't bring anything in the way of food with me to work. I hate these days because I end up having to go hungry, borrow money, or <shudder>, eat what I have at my disposal. Today that means left over carrots, celery, and cucumber slices with hummus, a greek yogurt, some blueberries, and/or oatmeal (not to mention a boat load of candy). I packed all that healthy crap yesterday, aiming to start eating like a proper human (well, I also had ramen but I'm a proper person of limited funds and imagination) and it wasn't bad... yesterday, when I could have gotten something else if I'd so chosen because I had my wallet with me. Healthy food, when it is my only option, is worse than healthy food when it is of my choosing. That's why I'm eyeballing the orange on my desk with revulsion and anger. Fucking stupid orange, all complicated to peal.

I did have some of the veggies and hummus and it wasn't the worst experience in my life, but I only ate them after I'd eaten some of the candy my mother sent me. Basically, I ate the healthy crap out of guilt. Then I just continued to refill my coffee cup because I seem to think if I drink enough coffee, it will eventually be food. In reality, I just keep going to the ladies room. Fortunately, Bean just called and offered to bring me something from Target. I explained that I did have stuff I could eat and that I had just poured more coffee but she was all "I can get you those garlic spring rolls we like" and it was very much like Jen Barkley telling Leslie Knope she would buy her those waffles she liked and I totally caved. Bean even told me not to worry about the three whole dollars the lean cuisine is going to cost! How did that happen? Muffin button? Probably the muffin button.

Next Day

I had a nightmare last night about Stalker. It was the worst I've had, ever, so bad that I woke up and felt afraid. I've had nightmares like that in the past, but not involving Stalker. I haven't even seen that guy much in the last few weeks but there he was, scaring me in my dreams. I thought I was passed those days.

I also dreamed that I was in a car accident again only this time it wasn't my fault.

I also told J that I was going to disappear. He texted me asking what I meant and why and I just told him I meant from his life, not Earth, and that it was too painful too stay in his life (or attempt to at any rate). He texted back "I heard that." Then I fell asleep and dreamed about Stalker and a car accident. I wonder if it just means that I have survived my worst fear and that I need to stop beating myself up about things that happen in my personal life, not take on all the blame.

J is 33 today. I feel better than I thought I would and, whilst sad, it is a low level numbness rather than the weeping grief I've been experiencing lately. I'm sure if I say "I think I'm finally through it" I'll just stumble into another wall of mourning so I'll simply say that I seem to have made progress. 

Now

Now I am at work, taking a quick ten minutes to finish this post before delving back in. I've worked 22 hours so far this week and it is only Wednesday. I have much more to do and I'm learning and growing professionally in the midst of it all. Not a bad week so far, all things considered.

And for some reason, I can't stop thinking about perfume and how I would like to have some. I have two old bottles, one Structure, which I've had for at least 8 years and one Joy, which BFF gave me when she moved. I don't wear either of them that often and I've wanted a new scent for years but just never seem to bring myself to it. Quite random, isn't it? Like having a food craving.