Tag: work

Review: Close to perfect notebook!

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This is a review for the SUNEE Graph Paper Notebook. Or as Amazon likes to call it (click for link): SUNEE Graph Paper Notebook – 300 Pages, 5 Subject, 8.2″x10.8″, 5 x 5mm Grid Lines Notebook with 5 Pocket Colored Dividers, 3-Hole Punched Quad Ruled Paper, Black Graphing Spiral Notebooks for Math, Engineering, Writing/Drawing Journals, Home & Office. Amazon has a beautiful way with words.

I debated giving this a 4 or 5 stars. It deserves 5 stars for being amazing but I half wanted to give it 4 for not being absolutely perfect. It’s so close though! The specs:

  • Page Number: 150 Sheets/300 Pages
  • Page Weight: 80g/m²–Ivory Color
  • Metal wire-o twin loop wire binding
  • Cover is waterproof frosted plastic
  • Five movable subject dividers with pockets
  • Perforated pages with three ring punched holes
  • Available in graph paper or college ruled

So I needed a notebook for work. I was using a three ring binder but I quickly found out that it takes up too much room on a crowded table in meetings. So I needed a ringed notebook I could fold over. I prefer engineering graph paper. It’s super light colored so still easy to read over and gives you a million options for what you want to write, how large, drawing tables, endless possibilities. This came in graph paper so close enough. It’s also smaller than the average graph paper squares at 5 per inch so not too bad.

I also work on a lot of different projects. So I decided to look for something with multiple subject dividers. This not only has 5 subject dividers — they’re also movable and have pockets! Pockets are an obvious win for handouts and notes from meetings. And the movable dividers mean I can devote more of the notebook to larger projects. It also had something I didn’t realize I wanted: 3 hole punched pages. This means if I need to save something long term, I can pull it out and put it in my binder of things to keep for reference. Excellent addition.

When I received my notebook I was very pleased! The black plastic cover is understated enough to be professional without looking like you tried too hard. The subject dividers do not stick out past the book width as they do in the product photos which means it won’t get messed up when I toss it in my bag. I’m pleased with the thickness of the wire and the style of the double wired spiral. The first thing I did was stamp the front and back pages with a big “unclassified” stamp, as one does. I was sad to see that I could see the ink through the other side of the page. It didn’t bleed through completely, but it’s obvious that I won’t be writing double sided on this with my favorite gel ink pens. That said, if one were using regular cheap pens or pencil, this is certainly thick enough to work double sided in that case.

So for this to be the perfect notebook, I’d want it to be the engineering graph paper and thicker paper weight. Maybe an ostentatious cover as well. That said, however, it’s the best notebook I’ve ever found. I will most likely buy another when I need it. I also added it to my list of “Things I recommend 100%” (click for link).

It’s been a week.

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on It’s been a week.

Hi. I need to get some shit off my chest. And it’s a raw shit dump. I haven’t talked to anyone about this. That includes my friends and my husband. But I’ve been awakened by panic attacks for two days in a row now and I need to get it out. Don’t worry, I will totally talk to Mr C about it — but he’s currently asleep and then he’s got D&D later so that might not happen till tomorrow. Eh, even then it’s his birthday so maybe not then. He’ll read this. (Hi, my love!) And I’m going to go to my friends house to talk and pet their dogs. I’m like dressed and everything.

So the fact that I haven’t had this shit dump to an actual human yet is 100% on me, OK? I’ve talked to K on the phone extensively — hell, I saw her all three days of the trial. And Mr C and I even watched the Glass Onion last night (It’s the sequel to Knives Out — and holy shit, they are both incredible movies — must see). The problem is, sometimes I don’t realize what I’m feeling. I guess I’m not in touch enough some times. So I have my very logical side and my very emotional side. And right now my logical side is having a fucking millennium New Year’s party while my emotional side is crying in bed and therefore waking me up in panic attacks to try to get some attention.

It’s been a rough week, yall. So this was the last week at my shit show job, the week of my court case/trial, and also our HVAC needs repair.

So let’s start with the elephant — the court case. This has been 3 years over due. The car accident which caused a concussion which led to post concussion syndrome and me losing my job and being out of work from October to August — that happened back in mid October of 2019. Obviously, settling is ideal. However, State Farm only offered me 7k. To cover 10 months of not working. However, I’m not that stingy, I only asked for the 7 months because I was released by my doctor to work PART TIME in May. It took until August before I actually got put on another contract and took a 20k pay cut. But we’re only arguing for when I technically was allowed to go back to work. But yeah, 7k aint gonna cover it. So I had to get a lawyer.

So we get a lawyer and sue. Some fun facts: the police report is inadmissible in court because it’s hearsay — they didn’t witness the accident. Also you cannot even MENTION insurance in court. Probably because if the jury knew insurance were the assholes and the ones paying up, everyone would logically go “no shit, that’s what insurance is for” and you’d always win. That’s my theory on that rule. So it’s not me suing insurance, it’s me suing the 16 year old kid that hit me in his daddy’s car. And the opposing lawyer is representing the kid, but the kid didn’t hire that lawyer — insurance did. This is all pomp and show of insurance using the kid as an avatar. The kid will never pay a penny ’cause… THAT’S WHAT INSURANCE IS FOR. But it doesn’t change the fact that I am suing that young kid over there sitting with his mommy and daddy for comfort. Do I get anyone for comfort? No. Cause Mr C has a job, I guess? I’m too self conscious to ask him to be there for me? Maybe I didn’t think I needed it because strong independent woman? I don’t know. He had offered and I was like no, there’s no point in you missing work for this BS. So anyway, I was alone. It was my own fault, but my point is — I made an error in judgment and so I had to go through this alone. </SCENE>

So I spent three days getting ripped apart in court. Because I’m the plaintiff, and the kid is the defense. So the other side didn’t even bring any witnesses. They admitted 100% fault in the accident. Their argument was that I’m a big fat liar about the illness that caused me to miss work and lose my job and wreck my face. He even quoted the TV Lawyers’ pitch “In a wreck, get a check!” But like, we’re arguing this to a jury so the main case is she’s a big fat liar. But we gotta lather it on — so we’re also gonna throw in she’s crazy (it’s documented since 2003). And then for the cherry on the cake — how is this bitch worth a six figure salary? Also somehow we’re gonna throw in that she has a lot of medical problems – let’s discuss all of that. Somehow maybe it’s just the thyroid or anemia that’s been well under control for 15 years.

So OK, I know I’m not a liar. So that’s really just an anger issue. But every time I complain about this piece of shit scumbag lawyer whose job is to drag my reputation through the mud in the dirtiest most exploitative ways — every time I mention wanting this fucker to die, everyone — even my husband, just say’s “That’s his job.” “He’s just doing his job.” You know what, I don’t give a fuck. Hit Men are just doing their jobs too. They got nothing personal against the people they’re paid to kill. Maybe he chose an asshole job? Maybe he has no ethics because he’s a piece of shit? I mean he sleeps just fine at night. That makes him a fucking asshole. He said a lot of bad things about me and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t get off because it’s his fucking job. Why is everyone just DISMISSING my anger? I’m fucking allowed to be angry.

So then let’s discuss my mental health. Cause it’s not like a sensitive subject or anything. Why are you crazy? Why do you require two antidepressants and take valium 3 times a day just to leave your house? Let’s talk about it. You take a lot of medication (Not like that’s something of a touchy subject like when my MIL snooped on my first trip up there and commented to my fiance that “she takes a LOT of medications.)” Do you think maybe you just didn’t wanna go to work? Even you doctor says he thinks underlying psychological conditions are probably contributing to your condition — sounds like he doesn’t believe you either. How do you feel about that? Do you think you’re crazy? You wanna cry about it cause you’re a big fat baby?

Also, why should you get paid this much? Like, you kinda suck. And you have a fuck ton of medical issues. Perhaps you just don’t wanna work? ‘Cause you’re lazy. Which I am. I am lazy, yall. Maybe you’re just trying to get a big payout. And it’s true that I’m heavily money driven, yall. That’s why I wanted my missed wages back. It’s also very true that I had to wake up early every day so K could come over on her way to work (GOD BLESS GOOD FRIENDS) and spray paint my hair brown. Cause as I am, I do not deserve that much money. I only deserve that much money if I present myself as better. With brown hair and makeup and better clothes and confidence. Cause normal Mrs C is a crazy wreck who doesn’t deserve her good life. Only prettier people deserve nice things. That’s never been a sore spot for me.

And yall, I’ve suppressed a lot of shit these past three years. Like this wreck FUCKED ME OVER. I’m over here getting headaches and motion sick all the time. I can’t travel. But it could be worse. I’ve mostly recovered! I’m so lucky! Yay me! You’re not allowed to be sad cause other people have it worse. And my career took a reset. Major pay cut. Lost the job I liked and was super proud of. Was gonna be a SME — the pinnacle goal of my software engineer career — on a very important and prestigious contract. Now, after having not been able to do math for a few months and not having worked on complex software for three years, I don’t anymore. I decided to step back from development cause I’m not sure I’m good enough anymore. Not like imposter syndrome is a thing anyway. Let’s talk about it in front of 20 – 30 people.

And to finish off this fun time — let’s interrogate you in front of everyone. Because that’s what it it is. An interrogation. When you testify, you don’t just get to tell a lovely story — you just answer questions. About EVERYTHING. Remember everything your lawyer told you to say. Your dates better be right and your numbers gotta be right and you better remember everything exactly that happened three fucking years ago cause it better match up completely with what you said in your deposition almost two years ago. And don’t talk to much — only answer the question asked. And don’t nervous laugh — stop that!

So yeah. That case ripped my fucking face off. It was a highly traumatizing experience. It opened old wounds. It made me super self conscious about pretty much everything. But it’s over. It’s totally over. And we “won.” My lawyer is handling the shit ton of people I now I owe money to (gotta pay back everything BCBS paid for my medical — gotta pay back everything short term disability gave me. The doctor’s depositions come out of my part of the winnings. And the lawyer gets 40% before any of that). So the jury awarded me my lost wages for the 7 months, plus a very small bit for medical and pain and suffering. After everyone gets their cuts, I get like 3 months missed wages.

So it sounds like it wasn’t worth it. Cause I only got 3 months when I missed 10. Yes, again — I got fucked by this wreck. Life isn’t fair. I got a ton more than the 7k insurance offered before I got a lawyer. And while I will not see a third of it — State Farm had to pay into 6 figures for this case after the verdict, the trial, the failed arbitration, and putting me though bullshit by dragging this on for three years. So making them pay is part of the win. Fuck them.

So that’s over — I should be shitting rainbows! Instead, I’m looking around like a fucking mac truck just hit me. What the fuck just happened? Why is that allowed to happen? I really over estimated my mental fortitude. I shouldn’t have just asked Mr C to come, I should have asked K and K2 to come too! I got killed even though I won.

And listen, I’m petty. So like I know that when I married Mr C, I agreed to be a financial squirrel. We want to retire. And he doesn’t believe in any debt — even good debt. So our number one priority is to own this house ASAP. We can’t even buy new furniture for the house until we own it. So this money will all be put directly to the house. I acknowledge that. And that’s fair. He was 100% the sole breadwinner when I was out of work and it cost us our savings. Do I agree with his view that even mortgage debt is bad debt? No, I don’t. It’s OK to have a mortgage in my opinion. And K’s about to get a new car and I don’t like driving my tiny car cause I want a bigger car that wins in the car accident rather than gives you a brain injury. So were I single, I’d be buying a new car. But I’m not. So I asked if I could keep just a tiny bit to pay for a bit of my sleeve tattoo and Mr Cs first gut reaction was to question why I needed it when I was supposed to be saving for my tattoo. That hurt. I mean he’s letting me have it, that was just like his gut instinct cause Mr C’s gut instinct with money is that he is a squirrel and it must all be saved. NO TOUCH.

Also, my laptop, which is my only computer, is freaking out something major this week so DON’T DIE, PLEASE.

Anyway — my last week with the shit show. This should make me happy. I should have just been able to coast through it flipping middle fingers to everyone, but shit show is a shit show. I went directly from court verdict on Wednesday to work. Had anything that needed to be done get done? Nope. I have spent the past two weeks requesting an inventory of the classified items in my possession. I have requested multiple times that a witness inventory them and sign for them. I got nothing. So I had to stay late on Wednesday and I sent a really bitchy email to everyone. I stated that I tried to get these items inventoried and signed over. And I took and made my own inventory of all of my assets. As my contract was terminating, I could not be held responsible for these assets and anything missing is not my fault because security has refused to give me their inventory.

That’s terrifying. Because shit show IS A SHIT SHOW. They lost 11 pieces of government property JUST THIS WEEK. So you think they’re not gonna lose my shit? The classified shit that was last signed for by ME? Making ME RESPONSIBLE FOR IT. They could just accuse me of stealing it if they want. So I printed out my bitchy email and attached the 9 emails to security and supervisors requesting that this shit be taken care. And I told them I’d be keeping it in my own records in case you ever wanna blame any of this on me.

So that was extremely stressful. Thankfully, two hours before I left for good, they inventoried my shit and at least verified that they saw it. Thank you.

What else? Well, there’s something wrong with the HVAC. We had it fixed up and repaired last summer but towards the very end of summer the downstairs stopped cooling. I didn’t care to pay someone to fix it as winter was coming and we had just been through this. Then two weeks ago after the crazy winter storm, my kitchen starts smelling like spray paint chemicals. It wasn’t the refrigerator or tankless hot water heater. So I correctly (it turns out) surmised it was the HVAC unit leaking chemicals.

So, did you catch the part where Mr C has lordship over the money? I have lordship over the practical shit. No offense to my actual rocket scientist, genius husband, but he’s worthless with that shit. I wanted to put it off cause I got enough on my plate but Mr C is afraid of dying from toxic fumes so I had to get someone out to look at it. Now, our AC people are not in our city. So to pay them to just come look at the unit is $175 for travel. And they’re honest guys so they’re the first ones to tell me to get someone local to do it. So I figured, just for diagnostics, lets get a local company out to diagnose if it’s leaking chemicals. They’d be $109. They did correctly figure out that our coil had a total blow out, all the chemicals are gone and told Mr C it’d be $3,100 to replace the coil but they’d just replace the unit. As I had told him to do, he told them to fuck off. I mean, he doesn’t curse but whatever.

BTW, the internet says a replaced coil with labor should be between $800 and $2000 dollars. The highest price estimate I could find was $2500. Also note, our coil is aluminum, not copper so it should be cheaper. Why are the trades people allowed to just rip you the fuck off? They’re allowed to just pull a number out of their ass and expect you to pay it. WTF?

So then I call our guy. I tell him the problem we think we have. Luckily his minion is already in town on another call so he’ll pop over. Awesome. So I met with him. I love this guy because he always teaches me so much. He explains everything and how it works and whats what. Anyway, the other people were right. He said personally, he’d just replace the coil. However, we want to know the numbers on the coil vs the unit and calculate whats cheapest in the long run since our units are 7 years old. So his boss is gonna figure that out for us. Oh, and the coil was like totaled so all the chemicals spilled out at once. And yeah, we’d have smelled that. But like there’s no more even left to spill out.

That was Thursday evening. That night, it got kinda fucking cold. It was 60 degrees downstairs. The heater had been fine, the AC was the problem. I had tried flipping the breakers off and back on but nothing was happening. So when my fingers started needing gloves while I watched youtube, I decided to text the minion and ask if like maybe he did something to it? Thankfully, minion calls me immediately and profusely apologizes. He thinks he disconnected the unit and forgot to hook it back up. But he’s willing to walk me through getting it back on. Sweet.

So I grab some shoes and venture out into the freezing cold darkness to wade through giant japonica bushes to get to the HVACs God forbid we have lights over there so I’ve got this guy on speaker phone and am using the flashlight function of my smart phone. He tells me what to do, it’s pretty easy and he tells me what to check for. Sweet, it’s running. So I return to the much warmer 60 degrees of my house with him on speaker phone and ask him about those estimates. He hasn’t talked to his boss yet so he doesn’t know if he priced the coil or bought one or what. Cool, we’ll figure it out next week.

So Mr C heard and comes down to get the gist of whats going on. I explained it and hes all twenty fucking questions about HVACs and what they guy said and estimates and did they buy the coil even though we haven’t even told them if that’s what we wanna do? We don’t know, no ones talked to the boss. Well are they gonna buy the coil without asking us? I DON’T KNOW. I don’t even care. We haven’t committed to buying it so even if they did order it, it does not concern us!

Jesus H *****, can I get a thank you? I just fucking fixed the heater. If it had been up to him, he’d have frozen all night and paid them to come back out and hook it back up themselves! I’M HANDLING IT. He won’t ask contractors a thing buy he’ll play twenty fucking questions with me about it. I was kinda angry.

However, I’m not the silent type so a little later I pointed out he hadn’t thanked me for fixing the heater. Because if I know what I need, I ask for it or at least hint at it. So yes, he totally thanked me for fixing the heater. And pointed out how great I did this week handling all this bullshit and he was very sweet. He’s a good husband so I keep him.

What I didn’t know, was like how fucking upset I was about all of this bullshit. I apparently need more than some pats on the back to recover from this — whatever the fuck this was. So yeah, I’m waking up to panic attacks. And because the office (his lair) is right above the living room (my lair), I hear everything. And last night he was telling his friends about he trial and we this and we that and we’re doing this. Which I get that we are a unit. I also get that when you’re talking to your friends you are the point of reference these people have. But my bitter ass just kinda had a guttural reaction of “WE aint doing shit. I’M DOING IT.” Not that I said anything — cause when I’m angry it’s best if I just go to bed. But then I woke up with another fucking panic attack.

Jesus, one day I’m gonna have a heart attack and just ignore it thinking it’s a panic attack.

So yeah. That’s where I am. So it’s Sunday of my four day weekend before I start my new job. The new job that terrifying because what if it sucks? Or I can’t do it? You know, normal new job feels. So uh yeah. I should be relieved cause the trials over and I’m done with the shit show _

PAUSE

There was another thing. Friday at like 4:50PM I got an email for monies owed from the Shit Show. They are saying that I have to pay back my sign on bonus. I do not. And I replied that they better reply ASAP that they’ve figured out their problem or they need to send me paperwork stating why the original terms of my contract have changed and I need to give them to a lawyer. But it’s a 4 day weekend so I won’t hear back until Tuesday. So surely this was an error and they will fix it. But as it stands they have now said that not only do I not get my final paycheck, but I OWE THEM MONEY on top of that.

Yay, that’s not stressful at all. Not because Mr C freaks the fuck out about every dollar and now we’re talking about me taking a muli-thousand dollar hit.

So, Mrs C, why aren’t you like just so happy to be done with the trial and done with the shit shit show? It’s a four day weekend — and no job stress cause you’re between jobs! Why are you having panic attacks? WTF?

I THINK I FIGURED IT OUT.

I’m still sitting a bloody mess on the side road after being hit by a mac truck going “what the fuck was THAT?” This week was the “THAT.”

Uncomfortable Conversations

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Today at work, I had to work with a new person to get a release out the door. He’s not new at all, he’s just been out on sick leave because he had cancer. So I got stuck with people like the dumbass that brought his cell phone into a classified lab that ended up in a report on my permanent record because I signed him in.

So I introduce myself. We’ve met before apparently, before he took leave. I don’t remember this at all but OK, off to a great start.

Anyway. This guy is thorough. Crazy thorough. Opposite of what I’ve seen at this wretched company. Don’t get me wrong — I respect it. Don’t put your name on shit you haven’t verified. Awesome. I’m over here shipping this shit out to be fielded — and just this morning I had to bitwise wipe the damn things to nuke them so they wouldn’t mount so I could manually repartition them and reprogram them. Dear god check it for me. He had a lot of questions and I didn’t have answers to any of them. Because B, who does this shit, quit. So I’m just flailing around making do. I’m trying to get him answers and he just keeps saying that’s not the way B did it. But he couldn’t remember anything about the way B did it except that what I was doing wasn’t it. Joy.

Also, anytime I tried to point something out or highlight something for him, I was constantly reminded that he’s been doing this with B for 4 years. Awesome, but can you just check it off?

So we’ve got 4 people trying to figure out how to show specific items to be checked off and we make it work. TEAM GOALS. I’m only here two more weeks. He’s griping about how we’re always doing this shit so last minute — and hey, I agree — that’s why I quit this shit show. But it’s specifically our fault because Hardware doesn’t do this last minute shit. OK.

So I’m making light conversation, as you do. I mention that it’s a bit warm (I have 6 computer towers under my desk — don’t worry though, he knows because he’s been doing this with B for 4 years and she did too) – anyway, that shit puts out heat. And I’m heat intolerant, as you know. Cancer-guy thinks it’s fine. OK, it was just small talk, whatever.

But then…

“If you think THIS is uncomfortable, let me tell you about uncomfortable.”

Oh god.

He’s a veteran. And he’s been in trench warfare where they didn’t even have toilets or sleeping bags or showers for weeks at a time. And he starts telling me about trench warfare and Eeyore’s wandered over now and they’re discussing war tactics and shit and the misery of being in the military. And weren’t those banned in the IRN treaty — yeah because of cancer guys team! Awesome. And there’s no sleeping or eating and I’m just kinda leaning back in my cubicle surrounded by kids toys and figurines and there’s a rubber ducky (left by B) in between me and this guys face as he tells me how bad people smell after three weeks in a trench without showering. And I’d never survive.

Listen, I’m an engineer. I couldn’t cut it in the military. I’m not athletic, I have flat feet, severe problems with authority, and I despise sweating. I’m a pansy, I get it. I don’t even have a dick so why are we in this dick measuring contest? How did this happen?

And just when it’s finally ending and he’s about to move — Eeyore mentions that he hasn’t seen him in a while — where’s he been? Some kind of medical event? “Medical event? Only THE medical event. Cancer.” God dammit, Eeyore. I’ve never even met the guy and even I know he had cancer. So now, we also wouldn’t survive cancer. It’s a hellish experience and and he had radiation and chemo on his neck and it hurt so much that he couldn’t even swallow water for weeks. He used to love spicy food but now ketchup burns going down.

But at least he did better than Brenda who works/worked a hall over and got diagnosed a month after him and DIED.

This conversation is fun. I’m having fun.

Yay work!

Case of the Mondays

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Holy shit, my Monday has been rough. It started out like it was going to be all good, to lure me into its trap. I woke up before my alarm and petted my precious Jack Jack for a minute. I needed to be on time today for testing that they wanted me to come in for on Friday but I couldn’t (cause Mr C had minor surgery and was high as fuck so I had to husband-sit). So I was rolling to get there quite easily ahead of time.

I usually get in at or slightly after 8:00am. Today, I arrived easily at 7:25. Fuck yeah. That’s in major rush hour traffic too, which I apparently usually don’t have. And just as I went to swipe my badge, I realized I did not have it. Fuck me. So I had to come home to get it. Then, right as I pull in my drive way and hit the bump, the tire pressure light comes on. Gahhhh dammit.

So I go back to work and now it’s 8:15. Fucking rush hour! It never takes that long. So, at work, of course nothing works. Because that would be too easy. Nope, everything’s broken. You said that because we only had one computer that works this one specific task, it would inevitably break, and you’d just laugh ’cause you told those fuckers they better fix your computer. But you’re not laughing, you’re just fucking pissed because it’s MONDAY.

Then somehow this megadumbass doesn’t invite you to a very important meeting. The kind that must be done in person once each year or you lose your super special privileges. So now you have to make it up next Monday. The Monday you were going to stay home in the morning to watch the super important milestone first launch of the SLS to the moon with your husband. The launch yall had planned for years to go see in person but now Mr C doesn’t wanna go. Fuck it all. I’ll just go to this meeting instead. Not that they’d really take away the privilege that only two other people in the building have. I’d love to see that. Ha. But you don’t mess with security. Every office has their politics and at my office, they’re the mean girl club. So you don’t shake that particular boat. Even though they’re stupid bitches. For the record, they’re stupid bitches.

Ok, my car makes it thru work without going flat. That’s something. I’ll get groceries then swing by the gas station for air. Only the air pump is out of fucking order. THANKS. And the other gas station only takes quarters and you don’t even have cash. AHHHH. It’s ok. I’m cool. I’ll just get a car wash and use their air pump! Only apparently, they don’t have air pumps! Those things you assumed were air pumps are just air guns to spray you the crevices of your car. But now you’re trapped in the god damned line so you can’t get out. Guess we’re washing the car now.

If you have pressurized air guns at a fucking car wash, why not just make them tire pumps? Like one or two? Just one? No? Fuck you.

I have a headache and it’s not even over yet. I still need to go out to the garage and use the car powered pump to put air in my tires and hope it’s just a slow leak and not that I ran over something. Cause my car doesn’t have that fancy technology that tells you what tire and how much pressure it lost, it just has a indicator light that looks like a flat tire. It’s like me, goes straight to panic mode.

Fuck Mondays. I need a tylanol.

It was the right choice.

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So I’m glad I switched jobs. Does some of it suck, yeah. This week was insanely stressful because we had people in from another state down to do dry runs and we didn’t even get them done. My ass is so new that nothing was setup correctly and just fail after fail after fail. With 3 different people breathing down my neck wanting updates on shit I can’t control. One guy even moved into the empty cube next to me so he’d know when we could proceed. So yeah, stressful.

And obviously going back to 9 hour days in office sucks ass. I’d much prefer everyone be in office for like 2 or 3 days a week, or just afternoons in the office. I mean sitting there for 9 hours is just painful. So yes, every day I text my husband about how miserable I am and I want to come home. But that’s kinda just having a job in general. I’ve never been one to like working. Ever.

But it was the right choice. Being back in the office is better for my well being. Working from home full time wasn’t working for me. I was getting depressed and lonely. I need to get dressed and have some days where I’m like “damn, I look good today.” I need small chat. I gotta have it. I want to know what your plans are for this weekend. I want to hear gossip. I want to be walking down the hall and hear someone call out my name. I want to hear the cleaning lady (who, BTW used to be a pharmacist in New York but found it far too stressful) wonder why she didn’t see me on Monday (I was out, thank you for noticing!).

Do I get exhausted and need to come home and stare at the wall with my cat? Yes. Do I hate having to get to work by 8? Yes. Are the days long and tiresome, yes. But I feel good being back in the grind. In the grind, I don’t feel bad for being lazy as fuck when I’m home.

I like making new work friends. I like that B was telling me about how V is a tough army type but he was never in the army. Oh really? Cause when I met V he was amazed at my goomba tattoo and raised his pants to tell me he usually wears his mario socks. We connected on a different level.

And the work is easier. Is it a lot more work? Yes. But it’s just tedium and frustrating shit. Which, I’ve so far been able to just go “yeah, not my fault.” I’m learning a lot of new things and once I get in the groove it’ll be better. This job is paper work paper work paper work and a shit ton of emails. I can do that though. I can get shit done on a deadline. I can own some documentation. Is it a pain? Yes. But hey, you gotta have a job. I don’t work well without tight deadlines. I’m too lazy. I admit this.

And it’s so awesome to feel those moments of boss bitch. Like yeah, I own this. I’m good. I know it. I haven’t felt that way in a long time and I certainly didn’t get to feel that way working from home. And im really enjoying the “office friendships” I’m developing.

So yeah, I wish I could do half weeks or half days from home. But then again, you gotta pay the bills and you can’t always get what you want. I think taking the lesser job and going back to office full time was the right choice for me.

Actual Workplace Conversation

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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.

Eeyore, the Coworker

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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.

Job Decisions

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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.

Job Thoughts

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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.

Zoom Meetings

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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.”

Relax -- Seen here with my lazy Coworker.
Relax — Seen here with my lazy Coworker.

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.