P1 “I think his name is Thomas.”
P2 “Are you sure?”
P1 “I’ve been calling him Thomas and he hasn’t corrected me.”
Me “Doesn’t mean anything. Some people call me B and I just don’t give a fuck to correct them.”
P2 “That’s because your name is B.”
Me “You’re one of those people.”
Keep in mind, I’ve never interacted with this person outside of my cubicle. Where my name is prominently displayed.
So one of my coworkers is a gloomy dude. He’s just kinda always signing or yawning. Great guy, don’t get me wrong. Super helpful and nice. But he seems to be upset with so much of his life yet completely unwilling to do anything about any of it.
Job turnover in his department is insane because they run them like dogs and treat them like shit. So the job market here is huge, they just go elsewhere. But Eeyore has had worse so at least this isn’t as bad as that. He used to have a job he really liked but he got injured on the job and lost it. But he won’t try to find anything like that again because at least no one bugs him here. He’s got an injury from said work injury, and he complains about it daily if not hourly. He says the doctors swear there isn’t anything wrong. But he found this one specialist that recommended this band thing that was $400 but he couldn’t find it. So he gave up.
I asked if he’d been to physical therapy “well, I don’t know what they would do” was his response. I told him he should give it a try. Get a referral from his doctor. Oh well, he doesn’t have a doctor. He had one but they closed. Then went on to tell me about all the doctors he’s called. I suggested something else and got a “yeah maybe.” He moved into a great apartment, but hasn’t had time to move his stuff in. He just really likes to complain about how much his life sucks. But he never does anything to try and do anything about it.
I asked B about it (B is my new work buddy). She said he reminds her of Eeyore. Holy shit, he does. He’s Eeyore incarnate. Which I kinda didn’t want to accept because I adore Eeyore and Eeyore is just severely depressed, OK? And then I was like, holy shit, this guy need a therapist and pills. Like STAT. I’m over here on three different antidepressants. We have a cure, my man. But how do you tell someone they really need some fucking pills?
Also, on the topic of Eeyore — the character, not my coworker. What the fucking fuck? Everyone else had houses but Eeyore just had some sticks. Yall couldn’t build him a house? Or give him a tent or even a rainfly? Hell, bring him a blanket to throw over his sticks. Help your friend out! Pooh can’t raise some fund to get him a rainfly so he at least won’t get rained on. Good Lord.
1) So as you know, my precious cat Jack Jack is deaf. However, for 16 years, he’s “found” me by screaming for me. He wakes up and screams, I call out to him, he comes. So now he wakes up and screams, but gets nothing. So he just walks around screaming and caterwauling. This drives Mr C insane. But he did the sweetest thing.
I was laying down trying to get a nap when Jack started wailing and wailing and wailing. Mr C picked him up (he hardly ever touches the cat) and carried him into the bedroom where I was. Well, Jack didn’t see me immediately so he just screamed at Mr C till he finally walked over to me and Jack saw me waving at him. So Jack runs over for pets and Mr C goes back to his peace and quiet. So sweet of him to help my Jack Jack out.
2) Does your internal rage ever just jump immediately to full speed and you’re like “woooooah.” Like you didn’t even realize you were pissy and all the sudden you’re about to snap? That happened to me at Taco Mama. I was meeting up with friends for lunch. I was waiting in line. It’s important to know that at Taco Mama, the table numbers are just sharpied on triangles of wood. So he gets number 99. Now go away. Then he goes “haha, is it 99 or 66?”
Motherfucker, it won’t even stand up like that.
3) This job decision is really stressing me out. A lot more than it should. There’s so many pros and cons on both sides. I thought I had decided for sure — take the new position. But then I keep thinking of all the reasons not to. I’m not at peace about this.
So I’ve been offered the other position in my company. I am currently a software engineer (SW), but I have been offered a configuration management (CM) position. I was hoping the decision would be helped by salary, however, it would be a “lateral move” meaning no salary change. Damn. In SW I have a nice hybrid schedule that’s almost 100% from home. In CM I’d be almost 100% in closed labs. So damn.
Damn. damn. damn.
The thing is, I’ve lost all confidence in my SW abilities — at least at this company. It’s just not the type of SW role I’m used to. It involves a lot of hardware interfacing. I don’t do that. I know nothing about that. I didn’t go to school for that and none of my 17 years of experience has been in that. CM, on the other hand, I can rock out. It’s easier work. Which is why it’s usually paid less. Which leads to my second problem: Am I stagnating my pay by changing? I’m pretty happy with my current salary, but still, it’s to be considered. Though not over quality of life by any means.
Also, I don’t think my current company plans to keep people on hybrid schedules. I think they’re using “hybrid” as a way to ease people back in. If they called for everyone back immediately, a lot would quit. But I really do think they’ll move in that direction. The question is how long will that be? I hate to go on site full time when I could be rocking it at home rolling out of bed and straight the the computer – no getting ready, no commute, no nothing. Makes getting to work “on time” an ace in the hole.
That’s really the only thing I’m stuck on. The loss of the hybrid schedule. But would I lose it in SW anyway? There’s no guarantee I get to keep it. I could be moved to a program tomorrow that needs me in house. Anything is possible. I’ve been shifted around on a LOT of programs in my short time at this job. And I don’t see myself staying at this job long term honestly. This is the first time I’ve said that out loud I guess. Maybe I could make CM long term there though? Hmmm.
Wednesday, I have a meeting with management and HR to ask my questions. They got to ask theirs and had a resounding “yeah let’s hire her.” Now, it’s my turn. Damn, so much to think about.
Damn, damn, damn.
So I interviewed for the new position at my current company. New position would be easier and less open-ended, I feel. Which is great. However, it would also be 100% on site in a closed lab. I’ve gotten so used to working from home! Working from home is fucking sweet. At least give me the morning to roll out of bed and check my email.
So I haven’t been offered the job but I’m already hemming and hawing over it. Arrg.
1) It’s so hard to tell the difference between “I’m balding and I like naps” and hypothyroidism. Like yeah, OK, I guess you could describe me as “tired, lethargic, and losing hair.” I’m literally balding, and lazy though. So like, I don’t know. Give me more thyroid hormones. Sure, I’ll come back and let you test me again in a month. Why not?
2) Tomorrow, I have a skype interview for a configuration management (CM) position. It’s with the same company. They just really need a CM person and my software boss knows I have experience in both so she said I should apply and I could maybe do half and half. Well, as long as the pay is the same, I’m in! I’ve stayed the software route because it has higher earning potential long term. However, I’m happy with my currently salary. So if they can match it in CM, bring it on. I can do all the paperwork you bitches want. And I’m so unhappy with how uncertain I am with the job right now. I’m so out of my element. It’d be nice to have some easy wins.
3) In the past two weeks, I’ve seen my psychiatrist, my plastic surgeon, my primary care doctor, and my neurologist. Does it count that I had to go by Jack’s vet to get his meds today too? So much time shuffling!
4) My sister is mad at me. She wanted access to moms Facebook and it locked her out. She was accessing it through moms old phone that she never should have had access to as it belonged to me and I had specified it be given to my other sister who needed a new phone as that’s what mom would have wanted. Other sister never got the phone. Sister1 kept it and has been using it to access her Facebook and pictures and I’m sure her private messages too. So…
Facebook locked her out. So she tried to recover the password with moms email that she’s also been accessing. But gmail locked her out. So she contacted me. I’m the recovery email for all of moms accounts. Why? Because I would set shit up for her when she asked, not give her shit or half jail-broken hand-me-down-equipment, and not berate her when she forgot her passwords. (Hence the reason the phone was MY property. I bought the phone and I paid the phone bill.) Anyway, Sister1 contacts me because I’m the recovery email and she “needs” access to moms Facebook.
I wouldn’t give it to her. I say that like I’m confident about it. First, I asked Mr C- holy shit what do I do? I don’t want her to have access, she has no right. And it’s weird. And invasive. And mom died over a year ago. Then I asked K. Then I asked moms bestest best friend. All informed me that I didn’t have to give her that info. In fact, moms bestie informed me that she hoped Sister1 hadn’t read moms private messages where she often poured out her heart and frustrations about living with my sisters to her best friends in confidence.
Well… I’ll bet you a million dollars sister1 has read all of that. All the text messages. All the emails. All the Facebook messages. She’s seen my mom describe her in her worst light. And I can’t imagine the unbearable pain that must have brought her. It explains a lot though. She’s been absolutely obsessed with mom since she passed. Moms hobbies have become sister1’s obsessions. She can’t and won’t let mom go. So hearing me tell her I wouldn’t reset the accounts kinda pissed her off.
To ensure that I held to moms honor and let her accounts be silenced, I went as far as to disconnect my email from her recoveries. Her accounts are now lost to the ether. It was like saying goodbye again. Letting the flowers drift into the ocean. Google asked if I wanted to disconnect ME@gmail.com from MOM@gmail.com as this was permanent and could not be undone. Well… I cried and I clicked it. Bye momma.
Not that Sister1 would accept that I can no longer rest the accounts. She became furious and said that I should never have made my self the recovery account if I wasn’t willing to recover them. She said she needed important financial information because she’d be left to deal with all of moms accounts.
Well, what the fuck kind of financial information do you need off of Facebook? And mom died over a year ago. I told her I’d be happy to handle any of mothers personal affairs that they had not just been left to her. She could forward me any correspondence and I’d get a copy of her death certificate from brother and take care of it. No responses after that.
All of the family has been their usual radio silence. No answering the phone or text messages. Oh well.
I do feel terrible for Sister1. Realizing she probably read mom talking shit about her and how much she hated living with her. God, that’s heart breaking. But sister1 brought it on herself by invading moms privacy. And I feel terrible that sister1 has now kinda become sister2s custodian. I do feel bad about that. But again, she let sister2 move in. Sister 2 tried to get me and Mr C to take in her cats. We said fuck no. Sister1 is more codependent and took her in. And it was only supposed to be 2 months… over 2 years ago. I’m sorry sister1. I really am. but I still won’t help you violate moms privacy over and over again.
It’s a terrible situation.
1) Why is it never just standard size? I’m trying to replace a cover on our sprinkler system. Almost all of these covers all over the internet are 6 inch and 10 inch. So I ordered those. Nope. Mines somewhere between the two. The only 7 inch ones only come with the whole box, not just a lid option. Bastards! It’s never an easy fix is it?
2) Spring is in the air. We finally had our jungle of a lawn mowed. It looks ok now 🙂 The weeds don’t look like weeds if you mow them. Honestly, I wish we could just have a clover lawn. They make micro clover now that only grows 3 inches tall. Why spend all this effort on grass? I’d rather the clover. It’s not like we have an HOA. I’ll get Mr C on board one day.
3) I literally, JUST NOW, booked my tattoo appointment for November. Devon Greig Saturday November 5th. It’s a birthday present to myself! I’m so excited! I talked her into doing it piecemeal. She wanted to outline the whole sleeve at once. However, I’d like to do it in pieces. One, I want Jack first and as soon as possible. I also want completed pieces and not a partial tattoo for a few months between color sessions. And I think I’ll be able to tie more memories to it doing it in bits. Also, we can’t get to the scar cover ups for a whole 2 – 3 years. So the sleeve can’t be completed right now anyway.
4) Speaking of tattoos. I think the scars on my back are going to show in some bathing suits. So after my sleeve, I think I’ll want to cover my side scars in something. Thing is, I have no idea what. I don’t want a tattoo that goes all the way across my back. It’s just gonna “peek-a-boo” on each side where the scars in my bra line are. Good thing I have 2 years to contemplate this.
5) Ok, obviously I still have my tummy tuck revision drains. I’m sure I’ll have them the rest of the month. But man, the line has healed up great. I’m so so happy with the tummy tuck results. I love seeing my side view in the mirror without a huge stomach pudge. Not a belly — that pudge of skin I had that always stuck out further than my breasts. Now it’s gone! So happy with it.
6) Breasts are still healing. The massaging makes them sore. And I’ve got that popped stitch on my back which is a pain. Reaching for things tugs on your back skin — so where those incisions are is just a bitch. And the mismatch of the skin where the stitch popped — ugh it makes me shiver in disgust if I touch it. I hope it smooths out as it heals. But I’m not too worried. Even if it needs a revision, that’s something he can do in office with a little local anesthetic in the back and snip snip.
Still in the recliner. Might extend the rental another week. I can lay in the bed, but maneuvering around with my arms hurts because it engages my chest muscles. If I was only laying down and getting up once, that’s fine. But I’ve got to get up to pee a few times.
Plus my Jack likes me in the recliner. Will he start sleeping with me in the bed? I don’t know. But I love that he sleeps with me in the recliner.
7) Return to normal work schedules is Monday. I get to define what the will look like for me. I’m not sure what I want. I definitely don’t want to go in early. I like how my office mate works — he only goes in in the afternoons. But I’d also like to stay home some days. I think I’ll start with Monday thru Thursday in office afternoons and mornings and Fridays from home. See how that works out.
1) So today marks two weeks since my breast lift, augmentation, and tummy tuck revision. Tummy tuck, 100% fine. Breasts are extremely tender and achy. Especially if I let myself get cold (which I prefer to do because I’m hot natured). If I get cold, it’s game over – the boobs doth protest. Also I still get a sharp pain on the right with a deep breath. Because he sewed them to my ribs. Can’t wait for that stitch to dissolve! Did not expect to still be in any kind of pain at this point. I thought the boob jobs were easy peasy!
2) I go back to work in 1.5 days. I’m dreading it with all my being. I suck at my job — or at least I feel like I do. I don’t derive any happiness from it. I just feel inadequate.
3) I tried to call my sisters and sis-in-law this morning. As usual, no one answered. They won’t return the calls either. It’s so lame. My brother would answer but he’s so busy and might be at work. I just wanna keep in touch with my family. Also, I just had surgery — you don’t wanna know how I’m doing? I call LAME. Lame flag on the field.
I wish more people used their cameras in work meetings. I’d like a face to associate with a name. So I tend to turn my camera on a lot more than other people. I don’t get dressed — I’m still in a tank top and compression sleeves and a compression binder — but I throw on a cardigan and turn my camera on.
Today we were about to have a meeting with the customer so my manager wanted to play around with her settings. I decided to do the same. I finally found the blur background (I had never looked for it). I work in the spare room and so my background is actually a lovely piece of art I made myself that is covered in paper succulents and says “Relax.”
It’s perfect for when this was a guest room. However, it’s a little too on-the-nose to my work ethic for work purposes. So Now it’s blurred. Nice.
Now… I also found an option to “soften my appearance.” Now, I do hate the weighty standards and expectations that Photoshop and filters have brought to everyones body images. I, myself, hardly ever wear makeup and don’t touch up my photos (unless it’s going on a Christmas card and there was broccoli in my teeth). BUT. That said… this setting makes my camera not show every flaw in my 39-year-old, sun damaged, PCOS-affected, stressed-picked-at skin. I look younger. I look like I have makeup on. I look like I didn’t just roll out of bed and walk in here.
I cranked that shit to 75%
Sorry, not sorry.
So today, while being a terrible person and looking at Facebook on my phone instead of better things, I saw Misha Collins post about “Angel Numbers” — cause yesterday was Twos-day. 2/22/22 (in American notation). So he posted a number to text for your angel. Well, im in a funk so I texted it.
“Hello Angel Number, I’m very depressed and worried about my job and lack of contributions, knowledge, and motivation. I think I’m not good enough to do it and I don’t have that drive to dive i and figure it out. And the upcoming court mediation Friday is gonna be a cluster fuck. If I get the max, I won’t recoup 10% of my losses and they’re no offering the max even. C’est la vie.”
Then it asked me if I was a Russian bot and I kept texting cause I got shit to say.
“I am, in fact, not a Russian bot. Just a down in the dumps software engineer. I feel so screwed. I had a car accident that caused me to miss almost a year of work so I lost the job I liked and about 80k. When I got the OK to go back to work, I got put on a shitty contract. I hated it so I left for this job in November. But now I feel woefully unqualified and my depressive instinct is to shut down rather that pick up the reigns. Now we’re finally trying to settle with insurance over 2 years later and they’re offering 7k. No, thats not a typo. They’re offering 10% of my missed wages. AND I have to pay back for medical care, disability benefits, taxes, and of course the lawyer get 40%. I’m getting fucked!”
“I wish I could focus on the good stuff in my life. I’m finally getting plastic surgery to spiff up after massive weight loss. The second surgery is set for March 15th. I wish my mom could see! But oh yeah, she died of COVID before there was a vaccine. “
“I miss my momma and I hate my job. I’m crying to a text number dammit.”
“Mustn’t cry during work hours. At least I finally got my super sweet goomba tattoo.”
“Oh and no worries, I’m not a suicide risk. I have a psychiatrist and I take Valium PLUS 3, yes 3 antidepressants. And I have an awesome husband and cat. Oh yeah, the cats in stage 3 kidney failure with a heart murmur. When the cat goes, I’m gonna lose it.”
“I hope I can get his tattoo before he dies. He’s like my little familiar soul cat, At one my, my soul reason to live was that cat. He kept me going. I want his portrait.”
“Look at my handsome Jack!”
“I want Megan Massacre in New York to do it but she’s crazy famous and I’m in Alabama. My next choice is Devon Greig who did this sweet goomba on me. “
“*sigh* Thanks for listening, Angel Number.”