Sometimes you just really need to vent about work, right? Well today is that time. My boss, though great and understanding about my life problems, thinks she is absolutely 100% right about everything. I find it irritating in every way. Probably because I am the same way.
Our co-office-worker makes mistake after mistake after mistake while following all the pre-ordained guidelines while I do it my own way. Not breaking any rules, just simply doing things that seem smarter, more efficient, and more effective. But to my boss, it is wrong. To my boss, only her way is smart, efficient, and effective.
Heaven forbid I am saving the company time and money by having to send people out to fix co-girl's problems. I have not had one incident close to what she has had. Yet, I see myself being ridiculed and yelled at so much more than her. If she makes the same "mistakes" I do, which she does, she does not face what do.
That is probably because she stands there like a meek little lamb, whereas I will fight you to the death. Defend to the death. And I am horrible at surrendering. If I feel that is in everyone's best interest to simply stop fighting, I will simply say okay. And for the life of me, I cannot make it sound sincere. I am sarcastic. That is me.
I am sorry, but the job I am doing now, and the job my manager is doing, is not the most important job in the world. We are landscapers. It is not life-changing, nor life-saving. Customer service is not number one to me. It is not the most fucking important thing.
I want to just yell - tell her that I have a degree in social work. I know how to treat people. I know what it is important. I know how to sway people in one direction or another. But I am stuck here, because I cannot find a job in my field. I cannot find a job.
And I know social work is not all important either. But it is a hell of a better thing than landscaping.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Court
Court was today. His lawyer has been pushing this off for months now. Months. He took forever to call. He got 18 months of probation, has to attend NA two times a week, and continue maintaining a clean lifestyle.
I just don't quite understand this. I thought the entire goal of this was to have a reduced sentence. The felonies were dropped; he was only up for two misdemeanors. And since his lawyer kept pushing it back, I, however naively, thought his sentence would not be so long. I am not retarded. 18 months of probation is great, considering.
But come on. I thought only a year, at the most. And all I really cared about, honestly, is if our vacation to Florida would be jeopardized. It's in August. We'll see.
I am not complaining. I am not. I am happy that it is not jail. I am just confused as to what the point was of waiting so long, if this all could have been started in March.
It's so frustrating to have him call and tell me this, at work, and not answer my questions in a nice, understanding way. I want information - I crave information, I always have. And he is the kind who just gets by with the important things. Don't have a fricken attitude about things that I want and need to know.
We had one of our huge blow-outs last night. The screaming kind, the kind where I threaten to leave. What was it over? I have no clue anymore. Probably something dumb. From what I can recall, there was words and actions thrown around over household chores.
I wish he would comprehend the fact that I am working my ass off and the least thing he could do, the least, is to have the house clean when I get home from work. Do the dishes. Vacuum. Mow the lawn without whining. Make the bed. Do the laundry. Just do something.
He has a job now. I understand that. We both need to chip in. He doesn't need to tell me that he happened to work for the first 7 months of our marriage and he didn't whine when I didn't. It's a lie. I worked. Part-time, but I worked. And his work? That means nothing to me anymore.
I'm not grateful for it. I'm not okay. He may have worked but I don't know how long. He went out to smoke crack. He may have gotten foolish amounts of money, but I wouldn't know. He liked to just "get by" so he could go out. So I am not appreciative. And it's not a legitimate argument because I never saw a penny. I saw us scraping by, begging help from people.
So his job? Means nothing.
I just don't quite understand this. I thought the entire goal of this was to have a reduced sentence. The felonies were dropped; he was only up for two misdemeanors. And since his lawyer kept pushing it back, I, however naively, thought his sentence would not be so long. I am not retarded. 18 months of probation is great, considering.
But come on. I thought only a year, at the most. And all I really cared about, honestly, is if our vacation to Florida would be jeopardized. It's in August. We'll see.
I am not complaining. I am not. I am happy that it is not jail. I am just confused as to what the point was of waiting so long, if this all could have been started in March.
It's so frustrating to have him call and tell me this, at work, and not answer my questions in a nice, understanding way. I want information - I crave information, I always have. And he is the kind who just gets by with the important things. Don't have a fricken attitude about things that I want and need to know.
We had one of our huge blow-outs last night. The screaming kind, the kind where I threaten to leave. What was it over? I have no clue anymore. Probably something dumb. From what I can recall, there was words and actions thrown around over household chores.
I wish he would comprehend the fact that I am working my ass off and the least thing he could do, the least, is to have the house clean when I get home from work. Do the dishes. Vacuum. Mow the lawn without whining. Make the bed. Do the laundry. Just do something.
He has a job now. I understand that. We both need to chip in. He doesn't need to tell me that he happened to work for the first 7 months of our marriage and he didn't whine when I didn't. It's a lie. I worked. Part-time, but I worked. And his work? That means nothing to me anymore.
I'm not grateful for it. I'm not okay. He may have worked but I don't know how long. He went out to smoke crack. He may have gotten foolish amounts of money, but I wouldn't know. He liked to just "get by" so he could go out. So I am not appreciative. And it's not a legitimate argument because I never saw a penny. I saw us scraping by, begging help from people.
So his job? Means nothing.
Drugs or Me
For anyone who has ever had to cope with anyone doing drugs, any kind, this song is for us. It has touched me in many ways, for years.
Drugs or Me
Jimmy Eat World
Disclaimer: The video is not what is important. It is the words.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Custard craving
Guess what, dear readers? I have lost another pound. I am purely delighted in myself! Only 16 more to go! Ha. It seems like an incredible amount, one I am not ready for. I have lost four, maybe 5 already, but that maybe not be a legitimate amount. I can't remember if the five poundage was after I had eaten or what.
Either way, I am still on my way. It is so hard. I never knew how hard it would be! Not eating after dinner. How I crave that custard that is withering into ice crystals in my freezer! It breaks my heart to the fullest.
Either way, I am still on my way. It is so hard. I never knew how hard it would be! Not eating after dinner. How I crave that custard that is withering into ice crystals in my freezer! It breaks my heart to the fullest.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Instigator
It’s strange really, how much the lifestyle of drugs surrounds you. Our downstairs neighbors in our building (3 family farmhouse) apparently are a family of pot-smokers. All of them. There are quite many who live there and for our little old-fashioned suburb this is quite interesting news to hear. In all honestly, I am sure there are others like this out there.
The father, the son, the friends – they all smoke pot. Chris seems to be coming friends with one of the sons, Tyler, who said he used to be completely messed up with prescription painkillers, etc. He said now he steers clear from all that. Interesting. I wonder what he does when his family smokes up. I wonder if he is lying.
Then there is my brother and his friends. His friend, I should say, the instigator. I used to babysit this friend, back when I was twelve and thirteen. I had great fun messing with these children. They were raised similar to me. Four of them, brothers. In a Christian home, stricter than anything, always feeling tied down.
But these brothers had it rough. They were rarely allowed to watch TV and when they did, it was carefully monitored. No PG, certainly no PG-13. And the one cable channel they were allowed to watch was the Discovery Channel.
I babysat these kids and we would spend hours playing board games. When lunch was served, I would entertain them with childish jokes and stories, hoping to corrupt their little minds with things such as "boogers" and "bloody fingers." They laughed until their little bellies jiggled.
But now the oldest brother has turned into something unfortunate. He uses prescription drugs mostly, for his own highs. And over the weekend, he passed it on to my brother, and their mutual friend. It was nothing major, nothing big, but it was still quite shocking to me.
No matter where I turn, someone in my life will have used some kind of drug to the point of trouble. Tragic, in my opinion, that it is the way life is. That innocence can be so quickly lost.
There is always an instigator though, isn't there? Someone who starts it and transfers it to someone else. It doesn't matter the age. There is always someone. Peer pressure. It's tough, even for the strongest person.
I wonder - can someone be an instigator for a good thing?
The father, the son, the friends – they all smoke pot. Chris seems to be coming friends with one of the sons, Tyler, who said he used to be completely messed up with prescription painkillers, etc. He said now he steers clear from all that. Interesting. I wonder what he does when his family smokes up. I wonder if he is lying.
Then there is my brother and his friends. His friend, I should say, the instigator. I used to babysit this friend, back when I was twelve and thirteen. I had great fun messing with these children. They were raised similar to me. Four of them, brothers. In a Christian home, stricter than anything, always feeling tied down.
But these brothers had it rough. They were rarely allowed to watch TV and when they did, it was carefully monitored. No PG, certainly no PG-13. And the one cable channel they were allowed to watch was the Discovery Channel.
I babysat these kids and we would spend hours playing board games. When lunch was served, I would entertain them with childish jokes and stories, hoping to corrupt their little minds with things such as "boogers" and "bloody fingers." They laughed until their little bellies jiggled.
But now the oldest brother has turned into something unfortunate. He uses prescription drugs mostly, for his own highs. And over the weekend, he passed it on to my brother, and their mutual friend. It was nothing major, nothing big, but it was still quite shocking to me.
No matter where I turn, someone in my life will have used some kind of drug to the point of trouble. Tragic, in my opinion, that it is the way life is. That innocence can be so quickly lost.
There is always an instigator though, isn't there? Someone who starts it and transfers it to someone else. It doesn't matter the age. There is always someone. Peer pressure. It's tough, even for the strongest person.
I wonder - can someone be an instigator for a good thing?
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