和 敬 西 洋

Tired and angry and buzzed from alcohol and STILL pissed that a *manager* at work decided to make shit up to get me and my coworker friend in trouble* and what bugs me the most is that we have NO IDEA WHY. Seriously. It can be one of two possible managers and as one is trying to get into coworker's pants and the other is female and MY manager referred to "the manager" who told her about our supposed transgressions in the female pronouns, well... we're just confused as to what's going on and why. Because this female manager? We have had NOTHING to do with - either of us. It's down to nebulous guesswork at this point. She's either out for blood from coworker or out for blood from me and either way, we have NO IDEA.

So.


I'm pissed and drinking hoping that I'll unwind and relax but really? My face is numb and I'm still pissed off and it's not even TUESDAY yet. Fuck.


* Friday, we were taken aside and scolded for spending too much time at [my] desk when she stopped by for our morning break. This was more-or-less resolved in that I told my (previous, as I have a new manager as of today) manager that really? some fuckwit in my "new" unit really needs a goddamned hobby if they're going to bitch that other people have friends, and if it's who I think it is, said person should really worry more about the fact that EVERYONE IN THE BUILDING knows they spend more time on personal calls than work anyway. So. Basically, after two and a half years of having no significant trouble at the office, I'm now looking at a daily pulled-aside-by-a-manager routine.

And I'm already about to email HR to file a harassment complaint if this happens again. Because today, what I was told not to do again never happened in the first place.


Yes. I'm pissed. I'm pissed off. I still can't feel my lips. And I have to go to work again tomorrow. Goddamnit.

Heard the new Tuesday
But didn't think too deeply;
Now the tears won't stop -
PMS isn't helping.
I am doomed to work with G.



Basically, it finally hit me that I have been set up for failure, whether intentionally or not, at work. The people I am supposed to work with will never acknowledge anything I do - they will nitpick any and every mistake and ignore the fact that 99% of the time I'm doing things right. And when my review comes in June, and the company doesn't make budget in July, my "poor performance" will get me fired. (That's the summary, basically. There are layers and layers to all this.)

So once I've calmed down about this, I'm going to email my supervisor and just ask WHY things were decided that way, what the reasoning was behind it, etc. Because I don't honestly think that the ops manager realizes what her decision will do to me. Do they give immunity in these things, like on TV? Can we just block G from giving any feedback? I dunno. But I intend to find out.

Uff-da.


Wore green. No one was dumb enough to pinch me (though the black eye I'd have given them would have faded to a festive yellow-green on them in a week, right?) - I think wearing my asskicker boots was a good deterrent. Was indirectly accused of dressing like a slut, by the guy that hits on me daily (in a non-skeevy way, it's more that I know gamer jargon and watch SciFi [SyFy?] regularly, etc and he's not socially blessed, to put it nicely) - which was a real WTF moment, since I had on long jeans (now a half-size too big, huzzah!), long-sleeved shirt (with a high, nothing-showing neckline) and my hair up in a rather sedated French twist. Go figure. Must have been the long green 'come-hither' earrings (they're fugly, but they're green) and the arsenal of cheap sterling rings.

Fewer cramps tonight. Less GI trouble. (Yey. Still spotting, but that's to be expected, since it is That Time Of Month, more or less.) Yey? Quiz tomorrow - it was supposed to be yesterday, but we had a guest speaker instead. (I understand I am not an Accounting Person. Really. But a two-hour lecture on the Good Old Days as a CPA? REALLY not inspiring. Or interesting.)


I bought a cheap duffel bag (a quest in itself, since nothing is especially organized at that Sport Chalet) - now my gym things will stay in the car so I can actually USE them at the GYM - I've paid for two months now and haven't gone there. Oy. It's not like I'm aiming for a bikini body, but seriously... I have yet to shed the 10 pounds or 3 inches I wanted to get rid of by, oh... May. So. Working on that, I guess. I've at least tried switching to tea for half my caffeine needs at work, and opted not to eat nearly as much junk (and not eating out saves $$, too). Baby steps. I'm still seriously considering buying the Ellie Krieger book that lists swaps and small changes for healthy stuff, because I like the idea of those things in one convenient book, rather than scattered across the 'net and Prevention.com newsletters. Tomorrow after class, I intend to go to the gym first, instead of home - at least get ten minutes of treadmill and some muscle work in, yanno? Something. I'm losing what little tone I had in my arms. Boo. (Oh, and I am SO buying my gym clothes at Target - Sport Chalet wanted $60 for Nike-branded capris. The clingy-stretchy kind that make your cellulite show in HD. $60! Gawd. I hate going in there - 2/3 of the store is Roxy/Oakley trendy crap now, not even remotely sports related. I'll keep my off-brand washable not-clingy-and-fits crap from Target, thanks. I can get a sports bra, pants, AND tee there for the cost of one pair of pants at the other place. Seriously.)


I can smell the comfort food downstairs. Nummers.

Guh. I've been managing anywhere from 12-14 hours of sleep a night and I STILL feel like warmed-over-death. Fuck. AND I have a test on Wednesday in accounting, so even though Monday's a holiday, I may wind up calling in sick Tuesday, or at least showing up late. Waah. I want this plague stuff OUT of me already. It's gone from a head cold to a head cold with flu, to a head cold with flu AND GI upset. If I come down with measles next, I will be sorely disappointed.

Also, Tuesday night is a Tea lesson, and I earlier expressed my preference for being a guest at the 22nd fundraiser, rather than staff. We'll see how much shit I get for this one. Because the other option is simply not going, since it's $45-$50 per person. I don't really have $45 lying around, anyway. Furthermore, an all-day stress-out on Sunday means Monday is going to suck mightily, and with my work on going UP the corporate ladder, I really can't afford to have any bad days between now and April.

So. Sunday the 22nd just may be a sleep-in day. Because while the food is FANTASTIC, the amount of stress and my-feet-are-killing-me is NOT worth it. [Which means the two ochakai I attend in any given year will shrink to one, the Zenshuji event, which is one where I can be a guest and do nothing but eat and drink.]

So, the new eBay sucks pickled donkey balls and I can't opt out of it anymore. Also, my computer is having a LOT of trouble running much of anything more than the word processor. Given that the whole thing as a 'new' item is available for $120 after a brief 'net search, it tells you about how obsolete it's become. On the up side, the RAM card for it is about $30 (from well over $100 back in 2004) and I'm reasonably sure I could manage to install it myself with enough patience and a small enough screwdriver. Which may help me drag a few more months out of this beast until I can afford a new machine (and before one more person starts in on the 'get a Windows it's cheaper!' tack, it's NOT - I would have to buy every. goddamn. software. all over again - including the full Adobe suite of products. [And yes, I will have legal copies of it all.] Which would be more than the new Mac system. So don't fuckin' start. The next person that tells me 'Linux!' is getting punched in the face. Seriously - this is why I don't discuss my plans with people. I don't want their goddamned input on a matter that doesn't concern them. Fuuuuck.)

Also, nice-but-socially-awkward-guy at work (especially guilty of the Linux battle-cry crime) finally blundered over that invisible line we're trying to be forgiving about. First of all, if you ask where I've gone and I tell you it was a routine doctor's appointment, don't press for more information. Because I'm still squishy from being poked, prodded, and having cold metal duck lips shoved up my cooter only to be swabbed with the Brillo pad of Q-tips, and I will GLADLY tell you every last miserable detail if it will make your testes crawl inside for protection and send you back to your cube. Seriously. For the love of small ponies, drop the subject. [On a more HR-friendly note, hello HIPAA laws - my medical history is none of your business.] Second of all, if you know I'm not fond of someone and I've chosen to confide in you, don't announce it in front of five or six people I do NOT trust. That's just bitchy. (I suppose I should be somewhat relieved that he's awkward enough most everyone tunes him out automatically until he's focused on them, because no one even looked his way, but still. Bad form, yo. He's a nice guy, but so utterly clueless about personal space - he'll listen to personal telephone conversations of others nearby and then comment on them. Seriously. Your cube-neighbor's realtor calling about their refinance is NOT your business, dude.)

On the bright side, I spoke to MY doc this Wed (not her bitchy, condescending NP, like last year) and she agreed that if I wanted an IUD, I could make the appointment for one, but she asked me to at least resarch the Implanon stuff, because the risk of IUDs and infection and the resulting scarring were enough she wanted me to really consider the alternative. (If that's her only objection -- being an infertility doc as well, she knows the risks -- and she can present it in a polite and not-condescending manner, especially after being told that I really had no interest in yet AGAIN arguing the subject of my choice not to reproduce, then I'm fine with that.) Implanon is TWICE as much as an IUD and not likely to be covered by most insurance. I'm not dropping between $400 and $800 of my limited medical budget on something that doesn't get positive reviews, sorry. That and I have a 'Hey world, she's got an implant!' lump visible on my bicep for three years (the longest it's good for) - no thanks. No one can see the IUD and I don't give a rat's skinny backside if some internal scarring on a non-vital organ occurs. Left a v'mail today to make the appointment - waiting to hear back. (I would also prefer the IUD insertion by a doctor who has proven that she can do a Pap smear painless to the point I was asking when she'd get around to it and she told me she'd done it long before. So. Skill with aiming for the cervix - big plus, there.) Also, I can now strike "before it's illegal" off my list of reasons for wanting an IUD (at least for now).

In a bitchy mood (duh...) today because work was suck-tastic, and I've cramped and bled through a whole load of laundry, to boot. Dinghy Blonde was up to her usual, and I spent the ENTIRE day on her project (which went from 'it MUST be in the mail Friday!' to 'Oh, I'll get to it this weekend, maybe, if I feel like it') and getting emails that included the phrase "good job so far". Bitch, I'm doing YOUR work, and you're not even in the building. Being a witholding cunt isn't going to make me help you any more than I absolutely have to. Trust me. I've already started taking notes, because I sense another meeting with my manager about this bullshit. (Which I hate - she's a hands-off manager, so she only hears about the bad shit, and I don't want to have to keep going to her with Bad Stuff, because it reflects poorly on me.)

Gah. So now I'm drinking really BAD sherry and debating whether to go to bed or not. I just might. I'm tired.

In working out the averages for the insurance exam, I figure I earned about an 82 or 83% on the test. (The results page only tells me that for each chapter, I earned between x-y%, such as 80-89%... So adding all the lows and finding the average, then adding all the highs and finding the average, and then the average of those two numbers gives me 82.9...)    The passing minimum score is 70%, and I got "good" as a grade result, rather than "pass" and it tells me my score was between 80-89, so... I suppose that works. I wish it were higher, given the amount of review I did, but... meh.  (I got an "Excellent" on the INS21 test, and I never took the class for it like I did for this one*... go figure.)

In other news, my drama-causing coworker (who calls herself my friend but is a rapid-cycling bipolar if her behavior is any indication and has NO self esteem so she puts others down constantly to feel better) isn't speaking to me. I suppose I shall have to (gladly) suffer her snub.  

Also, I read Twilight. I expected it to be a cracktastic, gooshy teenager novel, but it was surprisingly good. I really enjoyed the writing style - casual, like a conversation instead of a narrative. (Though I did get sick of that whole 'perfect' thrown in every other sentence about Edward. Find a new adjective - we get it already.  And I'm still not entirely sure how someone who actually feels cold, hard, and dead (because he is cold, hard and dead) is a romantic, turn-you-on kind of thing, but I suppose I'm just missing that kink. I do find it dubious that the lead female is a not-horny teenager up until this point, though. Hell, I have a lousy sex drive and I was a horny teenager. o.O; )   I'm going to go buy the second book tonight on the way home; it's been a long time since I've read for pleasure, and now I have the time and the lack of stress to do so. Yeyness.

Also, my funny dice kanzashi came in the mail - I now have a marbled purple d20, a green d10 and a dark blue d10 on hair sticks. I am incredibly entertained by this fact. ^_^'



* Admittedly, the material was much more basic and broad in scope, but still... I crammed for two weeks just like this time and did better. Phooey.

I realize I'm PMSing, and that a portion of my frustration today is entirely a hormonal/emotional upset. I just really, REALLY want to take a few personal days right now - work itself is busy but not much drama, but co-worker PG (the bitchy one) is being bitchier than usual (how is it OUR fault you chose to work three jobs? Why take that out on us? And quit being even more bitchy because we stopped even trying to talk to you because of it, dammit.) and being on the Social Committee stopped being fun months and months ago. I finally just said I was too busy this time, because I just can't stomach any more of the nonsense (and Gawd-preachin') from the person who has taken over. (I don't care that she's religious - that's fine and dandy - I care that she has taken it upon herself to provide a sermon that wasn't requested in the first place. If I want to be told I'm going to burn in hell if I don't accept that Get-Out-of-Eternal-Damnation-Free card from Jeebus, I'll start going to church again, kthxbai.)


A deep frustration
Churning low in my belly --
Seeking satori
Should not be so difficult!
Can I please go back to bed?

Rrgh. I have found myself very angry today. It's like every little thing is setting me off, and I HATE it. I don't like feeling this indiscriminate rage at every little thing. It's unsettling and frustrating, and that just feeds back into the vague sense of anger and hurt at everything around me.

So tonight I'm going to the gym again, and this time I'm going to work until it HURTS.  Get my frustration out elsewhere, y'know?


(Because right now I really want to write the Yellow Cab Company and chew them out for hiring douchebags. You don't park in the middle of the only lane into a busy office building to let off passengers, ESPECIALLY when the guest parking lot is three feet forward and to the right. Assholes.)

I suppose I should try to improve my karma a little by thanking the city of NB for finally painting guidelines on their poorly planned intersection. It only took four emailed complaints...

Dammit, Mom, the 'you can't have nice things' behavior is getting very, very old.

And my car's paint job is getting more and more damaged.

And we've had this discussion on a weekly basis now, including this past Friday afternoon.

Seriously, I'm going to start parking your car in the sun and spattering hard water all over it to let it bake in. When you try and clean it off, it'll take the paint with it. And then we'll see how often you remember not to pull shit like this.

Dear Dinghy Blonde,

Thank you for making me become the standing nail of the group. I went to my supervisor this morning with a list of complaints about you after the foot-tall stack of paperwork you left on my desk without warning that was the straw for this camel's back. Oh, and the 'call me' at the end of the note, but no phone number? Yeah. Fuck you. [Supervisor is amazingly cool, and emailed DB to let her know that ALL projects in the future will be going through her first. We're short on people* and I'm scraping the barrel on patience for this nonsense.]   I consider the email I sent you this morning regarding those documents to be a monumental achievement in civility. [I see that pile and raise you two questions - When is it due? and What the fuck is your phone number?]  And yes, I copied everyone's managers. Because if you won't respond to me, at least you'll respond to them.

And now, I really need to go to the bathroom and get a snack because it's my break time, but YOU said you'd call me 'around' 2:30 (it only took you 6 hours to reply, but who am I to judge? I just work here). Unless we're talking the kind of blast radius that a few pounds of explosives creates, it's no longer 'around' that time. It's well past it.

Please don't make me CC your managers AGAIN with the 'still haven't heard from you, what's going on?' emails, because if it's the only way to get a response, I will.

No love whatsoever,
KB


* Down by three-plus-a-temp-that-left, actually, and it turns out DB's work-from-home contract stipulates the NUMBER of hours, but not WHEN she works them, so she could stay up at 3am if she so chose. This means that if we need her, and she's unavailable, it's not HER problem.  (And while I realize that small children are a handful, there are such things as neighbors and sitters if they become too much to deal with - that little Johnny took a nosedive into the toilet is not my problem. That he did it hours ago and you're still sidetracked by it? That's your problem. That Little Johnny has left a trail of chaos every time you need a reason to be too busy to do the work you're being paid for? THAT is your problem, and now mine, because I can no longer do the 'urgent' work you give me when you are unavailable to answer questions.)  *koff*  Also, supervisor was PISSED I was here until 9:15 pm last Thursday. I pointed out that while I have no problem staying late, I have a problem with having no warning about staying late, because that's just a shitty thing to do to someone at 5:29:59  when they're getting ready to hit the road.