The unfortunate side effect of having most of my best thoughts in the morning is that finding uninterrupted morning time to write is incredibly difficult. I am, however, making strides in solidifying my morning routine in an effort to not only get things accomplished so they're not hanging over my head all day - after all who likes to come home from a long day at work and spend an hour doing chores before they get to take off their shoes? I'll slowly start adapting my wake up time until I'm getting the chores accomplished before the boy wakes up so that I can spend that time writing - or reading, but while I adapt I'm left unwilling to open this page for fear of not being able to say what I want to... of course today that urge is too great.
I'm incredibly irritated about some decisions that were made at work.
A major surgery is being done today at our sister clinic and in the interest of having things run smoothly we're sending an extra person. This way our technician can assist in the surgery without having to worry about answering phones or helping with clients. The surgeon who is coming in is rather exacting and only a few of us can comfortably work with him - the doctor who works at the other clinic is useless with customer service and won't assist the surgeon, will instead hover and ask a hundred questions while the technician does the bulk of the work.
In my mind it made more sense to schedule the surgery for the main clinic, where the staff is already in place. Instead, we lose a tech at our busier location and now I go in to work an hour early.
This is the one night a week we are open late - we close at 8:00pm. I typically work from 11:00-8:00, closing the clinic every Wednesday. I don't generally take issue with this, even though I don't get home until almost nine, have a child in elementary school, and despite such a late start my day still begins at 6:20.
Going in an hour early wouldn't be a big deal... if it were rather infrequent. However, it seems like every time I turn around I'm going in at 10:00. If I get a long lunch I'm able to come home at lunch - but then half of my lunch hour is spent in the car driving back and forth. Or I can pull an hour of overtime but the schedule is rarely busy enough to warrant that and as nice as the money may be I have no desire to work a 9+ hour shift.
I'm irritated, almost pissed off. I'm the only staff member with a kid. I've worked at this particular clinic longer than anyone else. Not only that... but I've been in this industry for 15 years and that, my friends, is more than my co-workers - combined.
So please tell me why the fuck I have this shitty shift and have to go play the game an hour earlier than usual? Cause I'm tired of it... and sincerely cannot wait for the day my husband tells me to quit giving him money every month for the mortgage so I can cut my hours and stop working on Wednesdays...
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
fuck you murphy
Yesterday was a fucking joke. It all started when my irregular and impossible to track period decided to pay me a visit.
You see boys and girls, the joys of perimenopause means that I went from so damn predictable that the calendar people would call me to make sure they have their days right... to... it could be anywhere from 21-30 days in between and the whole ordeal could take anywhere from 3-7 days instead of 5. Then... there's the possibility that I could have another one a week later.
So that hit first thing in the morning with cramps designed to cripple me and hormones to fuck up my already fucked up attitude.
I legitimately tore into my kid about being a lazy fuckhead twice in an hour.
TWICE.
Not saying he didn't deserve it... because he did... but I could have handled the entire thing with much more grace than I did... but when you have rampaging hormones and feel like someone is riding a steam roller over your guts from inside your body... not to mention the whole "kidneys feel like they're gonna fly out my back and kill someone" and the muscles in my legs not relaxing... and has anyone ever told you that their menstrual cramps feel like labor? Cause mine do. Same fucking sensation I dealt with when I had the boy... only difference is there's no an anesthesiologist around to numb my ass up.
All this on top of the dental appointment it took 45 minutes to get to... only to find an empty dental office with locked doors and a 23minute wait later they finally showed up 13 minutes past my appointment time. The entire staff had gone out to lunch together... and left no one behind to man the phones, let people in, etc... I guess transferring the phones to the doctor's cell is certainly something you can do... but when someone is already having a Murphy's Law kind of day, has to drive 45 minutes to see you and will be going home in rush hour traffic... you might want to be on time.
Profuse apologies don't work for me. Apologize once and then don't do it again. The tenth time you apologize for something... I'm not listening anymore. You've already proven that you don't care... Problem? Love my dentist, love the staff... hate the way she runs her business. Receptionist will call every 45-120 minutes the day before your appointment. They will do this until you answer or return their call to confirm that you will actually be at your appointment. There's no "call us if you can't make it" and the assumption that you'll be there. It's a constant barrage of annoyance and I inevitably have to work the day before... so no good. Also... the commute. Three cities over when I have dentists close enough to walk to. I have to find a new one... and I don't want to but I can't do that again.
Yesterday kept going wrong. To the point where even the boy noticed it. I could not catch a break and that made two solid shit head fuck you days.
Today I work from 11am to 8pm and I work with the same fucking assholes that I worked with on Wednesday. I'm pretty confident that Useless will either be at the other clinic (to keep her away from me), that she'll have called in "because she needs to study" or she'll leave early... same excuse.
I suppose calling in and saying, "I need to bake. The only thing in the world I want to do is make my fucking Christmas cookies. Nobody will let me. I've spent 12 days trying and 12 days being denied. I'd also like to put some fucking ornaments on my tree, which I also seem unable to do. So I won't be at work today." I suppose that would be a kind of fucked up thing to do... the day before my office manager gets married... so I know he'll leave early today... but I want to do it soooo bad... so bad.
Yesterday's nonsense left me with quite a bit to do this morning, but it's all manageable and I'll deal with it after my walk... and may call/text the OM and inform him that I may be late because I have things I need to catch up on as coming in to work sorely behind every single day is bullshit.
You see boys and girls, the joys of perimenopause means that I went from so damn predictable that the calendar people would call me to make sure they have their days right... to... it could be anywhere from 21-30 days in between and the whole ordeal could take anywhere from 3-7 days instead of 5. Then... there's the possibility that I could have another one a week later.
So that hit first thing in the morning with cramps designed to cripple me and hormones to fuck up my already fucked up attitude.
I legitimately tore into my kid about being a lazy fuckhead twice in an hour.
TWICE.
Not saying he didn't deserve it... because he did... but I could have handled the entire thing with much more grace than I did... but when you have rampaging hormones and feel like someone is riding a steam roller over your guts from inside your body... not to mention the whole "kidneys feel like they're gonna fly out my back and kill someone" and the muscles in my legs not relaxing... and has anyone ever told you that their menstrual cramps feel like labor? Cause mine do. Same fucking sensation I dealt with when I had the boy... only difference is there's no an anesthesiologist around to numb my ass up.
All this on top of the dental appointment it took 45 minutes to get to... only to find an empty dental office with locked doors and a 23minute wait later they finally showed up 13 minutes past my appointment time. The entire staff had gone out to lunch together... and left no one behind to man the phones, let people in, etc... I guess transferring the phones to the doctor's cell is certainly something you can do... but when someone is already having a Murphy's Law kind of day, has to drive 45 minutes to see you and will be going home in rush hour traffic... you might want to be on time.
Profuse apologies don't work for me. Apologize once and then don't do it again. The tenth time you apologize for something... I'm not listening anymore. You've already proven that you don't care... Problem? Love my dentist, love the staff... hate the way she runs her business. Receptionist will call every 45-120 minutes the day before your appointment. They will do this until you answer or return their call to confirm that you will actually be at your appointment. There's no "call us if you can't make it" and the assumption that you'll be there. It's a constant barrage of annoyance and I inevitably have to work the day before... so no good. Also... the commute. Three cities over when I have dentists close enough to walk to. I have to find a new one... and I don't want to but I can't do that again.
Yesterday kept going wrong. To the point where even the boy noticed it. I could not catch a break and that made two solid shit head fuck you days.
Today I work from 11am to 8pm and I work with the same fucking assholes that I worked with on Wednesday. I'm pretty confident that Useless will either be at the other clinic (to keep her away from me), that she'll have called in "because she needs to study" or she'll leave early... same excuse.
I suppose calling in and saying, "I need to bake. The only thing in the world I want to do is make my fucking Christmas cookies. Nobody will let me. I've spent 12 days trying and 12 days being denied. I'd also like to put some fucking ornaments on my tree, which I also seem unable to do. So I won't be at work today." I suppose that would be a kind of fucked up thing to do... the day before my office manager gets married... so I know he'll leave early today... but I want to do it soooo bad... so bad.
Yesterday's nonsense left me with quite a bit to do this morning, but it's all manageable and I'll deal with it after my walk... and may call/text the OM and inform him that I may be late because I have things I need to catch up on as coming in to work sorely behind every single day is bullshit.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
FML
When someone is covering a shift, working on their day off... it's common courtesy to give them the option to go home early if such a thing becomes possible... especially if they're not getting another day off during the week to make up for it... What's rude as fuck is to try to get the entire day off... you already have someone working their day off for another co-worker... so now you gonna try to get the day off? Finangle a half day? Fuck you. Useless fucking new girl came in for less than 40 minutes and that I will never understand because she drove an hour to get there. In rush hour traffic. Then again, this is the girl who has to to be told repeatedly to take her fucking lunch because working until an hour before your shift ends isn't the same thing and is, in act, illegal.
I can not tell you how many times I've sat her down, showed her the schedule and informed her that because she was late for her lunch, I had to take a short lunch to ensure everyone was on staff when the appointments started back up... and while everyone else got an hour or more for their lunch... I got 45 minutes because she felt folding the laundry and wrapping packs was more important. She always apologizes, and then does the same shit the following week... so I keep getting short lunches and everyone wonders why I'm pissed off...
So I'm working my day off... and I'm coming in an hour early to open the clinic... and Useless gets to work, proceeds to get in my way, annoy the fuck out of me and make me repeat myself because she couldn't get the concept of the simple tasks I was asking her to complete... those tasks that are her job... those things that relate to the clients and patients who are in the building at that moment... not the fuckers who are coming in the next day... she was overly concerned with pulling charts for the next day... and we had a solid block of appointments from 9-10... and she comes in at 9 and starts worrying about something that is A: not her job and B: not something that needs to be worried about at 9am.
If I have appointments to check in, a phone to answer, and people to charge out... why are you standing in the receptionist area working on something that isn't even necessary until tomorrow... you are the technician and need to be in the back helping the doctor not up here getting in my way. I snapped at her - more than once - for getting in my way.
I swear to the gods if I hear the words "I can do that." one more fucking time I will punch in her gods damned teeth. I'm halfway through a sink of dirty dishes and up to my elbows in soapy water when she walks past with an armload of charts and says, "Oh, I can do that!" and smiles at me like she's doing me a fucking favor... while hovering over me as though waiting for me to stop so she can come take over... even though she has an armload of charts... I scowl and tell her to finish what she's doing. I scowl and tell her that I can finish the job I started. I scowl and tell her three other things that need to be taken care of that nobody is actively doing at the time... and when I finish the dishes she's sitting in the break room "having a break" but none of the other tasks are completed, or even started... because she doesn't like doing those things... I can not tell you how many times I have walked away to get something, to answer a phone... and return to find her finishing the things I start... yet tasks she dislikes never get completed unless I myself do them... so every bottle of alcohol, cleaning solution, peroxide and hand soap hits empty since nobody will fill them but me... and I not only let them get empty to make a point, but I ask her twice a week to fill them up and she always takes a break right after I do.
She will go to wherever the task she most wishes to complete is. If she wants to charge people out she will go up front - even though she is scheduled to work in the back and we have someone scheduled to work up front. If it's not the office manager up front... she will just push and nose her way into the receptionist area and not listen to you when you tell her to stop. She says, "I'm just trying to be helpful!"
In the meantime... the work she is supposed to be doing is not being done and you can't do your job because she is getting in your way... and she's apologetic and smiling but doesn't go back and do the stuff she's supposed to be doing... she stays up front and does the stuff she wants to do. So then you're in back doing the stuff she's supposed to be doing... and then her ineptitude and incomplete training result in a mistake-or she's faced with something she doesn't know how to deal with... and you're fixing everything she fucked up... because she never asks for assistance, she just moves forward like she knows what she's doing and she doesn't listen so if you do happen to be there she'll fuck it up while you're standing next to her telling her to stop, no, don't do that...
Best part of all of this is... I can not continue to be nice to her if she won't listen, won't learn and keeps doing the same shit and making the same mistakes... and I'm gonna be mean, and I'm gonna snap... and she's gonna cry and go running to the OM and then he's gonna have to talk to me about my attitude and then I'm just gonna get more pissed off because I have talked to him about this, and talked to him about this, and talked to him about this...
But WTF ever because that son of a bitch (no offense I really do love his mother she's awesome) came in two-and-a-half hours late... took an hour-and-a-half long lunch... and then left early... leaving me to work a 9+ hour shift on my day off - most of it alone as the people who are actually scheduled to work that day managed to finangle most of it off.
Today I have to go to the dentist.
In an hour and ten minutes I have to get my kid...
My husband has been turning his alarm off... untreated sleep apnea can really fuck with your sleep patterns... and your spouse's sleep patterns... which is awesome because nothing will make someone fucking hate your god damned guts more than the person whose sleep you fuck with every single fucking day... and I'm about to either stop sleeping in the bed and use the fucking recliner in my office as a chair... which will do wonders for all the joint and nerve issues I have... just fucking wonders... or I'm gonna buy my son a bigger bed and move his bed into my office so I have somewhere to sleep... where I can actually fucking sleep... the whole fucking night...
And I'm going to get about a half an hour of alone time today.
That's it.
A half an hour.
Because my fucking husband can not get out of bed.
Because I have to pick my kid up early so we can go to the dentist.
Because I have to work all week.
I should get my normal days next week... but after that it's no alone time outside of my commute until mid-January... and when I stop and think about that... and consider the horrific cramps I'm currently experiencing... I just can't fucking keep fucking doing this.
My husband has to step the fuck up.
He has to do something about the sleep apnea so we both sleep better so I don't wake up every morning fantasizing about smothering him with a pillow... so that he can get up and get to work at a reasonable time instead of putting me in a position where I waste half my day waiting for him to get out of bed.
The resentment is strong.
The resentment becomes outright hatred.
It's cyclic.
But seriously.
I'm almost in loathing mode again.
Don't do a god damned thing to help out around the house without making it seem like you're conquering Everest. Eat twice as much food as you need to so I get screwed out of a lunch this week (hey-that's why I make four portions of things, not so you can eat for two)... keep in mind I cannot afford to eat out every day like you do... I eat out for lunch once or twice a month. Maybe. If I'm lucky.
Regardless... you're eating two portions... you're not working out... your fucking shirts do not fit and you walk around with an inch or two of exposed belly yet continue to insist that you wear a size large t-shirt... but you're gonna lose weight sitting on the couch playing phone games, watching sports and eating twice as much as everyone else in the household. Yes. I see your master plan. You will simply explode.
I can not tell you how many times I've sat her down, showed her the schedule and informed her that because she was late for her lunch, I had to take a short lunch to ensure everyone was on staff when the appointments started back up... and while everyone else got an hour or more for their lunch... I got 45 minutes because she felt folding the laundry and wrapping packs was more important. She always apologizes, and then does the same shit the following week... so I keep getting short lunches and everyone wonders why I'm pissed off...
So I'm working my day off... and I'm coming in an hour early to open the clinic... and Useless gets to work, proceeds to get in my way, annoy the fuck out of me and make me repeat myself because she couldn't get the concept of the simple tasks I was asking her to complete... those tasks that are her job... those things that relate to the clients and patients who are in the building at that moment... not the fuckers who are coming in the next day... she was overly concerned with pulling charts for the next day... and we had a solid block of appointments from 9-10... and she comes in at 9 and starts worrying about something that is A: not her job and B: not something that needs to be worried about at 9am.
If I have appointments to check in, a phone to answer, and people to charge out... why are you standing in the receptionist area working on something that isn't even necessary until tomorrow... you are the technician and need to be in the back helping the doctor not up here getting in my way. I snapped at her - more than once - for getting in my way.
I swear to the gods if I hear the words "I can do that." one more fucking time I will punch in her gods damned teeth. I'm halfway through a sink of dirty dishes and up to my elbows in soapy water when she walks past with an armload of charts and says, "Oh, I can do that!" and smiles at me like she's doing me a fucking favor... while hovering over me as though waiting for me to stop so she can come take over... even though she has an armload of charts... I scowl and tell her to finish what she's doing. I scowl and tell her that I can finish the job I started. I scowl and tell her three other things that need to be taken care of that nobody is actively doing at the time... and when I finish the dishes she's sitting in the break room "having a break" but none of the other tasks are completed, or even started... because she doesn't like doing those things... I can not tell you how many times I have walked away to get something, to answer a phone... and return to find her finishing the things I start... yet tasks she dislikes never get completed unless I myself do them... so every bottle of alcohol, cleaning solution, peroxide and hand soap hits empty since nobody will fill them but me... and I not only let them get empty to make a point, but I ask her twice a week to fill them up and she always takes a break right after I do.
She will go to wherever the task she most wishes to complete is. If she wants to charge people out she will go up front - even though she is scheduled to work in the back and we have someone scheduled to work up front. If it's not the office manager up front... she will just push and nose her way into the receptionist area and not listen to you when you tell her to stop. She says, "I'm just trying to be helpful!"
In the meantime... the work she is supposed to be doing is not being done and you can't do your job because she is getting in your way... and she's apologetic and smiling but doesn't go back and do the stuff she's supposed to be doing... she stays up front and does the stuff she wants to do. So then you're in back doing the stuff she's supposed to be doing... and then her ineptitude and incomplete training result in a mistake-or she's faced with something she doesn't know how to deal with... and you're fixing everything she fucked up... because she never asks for assistance, she just moves forward like she knows what she's doing and she doesn't listen so if you do happen to be there she'll fuck it up while you're standing next to her telling her to stop, no, don't do that...
Best part of all of this is... I can not continue to be nice to her if she won't listen, won't learn and keeps doing the same shit and making the same mistakes... and I'm gonna be mean, and I'm gonna snap... and she's gonna cry and go running to the OM and then he's gonna have to talk to me about my attitude and then I'm just gonna get more pissed off because I have talked to him about this, and talked to him about this, and talked to him about this...
But WTF ever because that son of a bitch (no offense I really do love his mother she's awesome) came in two-and-a-half hours late... took an hour-and-a-half long lunch... and then left early... leaving me to work a 9+ hour shift on my day off - most of it alone as the people who are actually scheduled to work that day managed to finangle most of it off.
Today I have to go to the dentist.
In an hour and ten minutes I have to get my kid...
My husband has been turning his alarm off... untreated sleep apnea can really fuck with your sleep patterns... and your spouse's sleep patterns... which is awesome because nothing will make someone fucking hate your god damned guts more than the person whose sleep you fuck with every single fucking day... and I'm about to either stop sleeping in the bed and use the fucking recliner in my office as a chair... which will do wonders for all the joint and nerve issues I have... just fucking wonders... or I'm gonna buy my son a bigger bed and move his bed into my office so I have somewhere to sleep... where I can actually fucking sleep... the whole fucking night...
And I'm going to get about a half an hour of alone time today.
That's it.
A half an hour.
Because my fucking husband can not get out of bed.
Because I have to pick my kid up early so we can go to the dentist.
Because I have to work all week.
I should get my normal days next week... but after that it's no alone time outside of my commute until mid-January... and when I stop and think about that... and consider the horrific cramps I'm currently experiencing... I just can't fucking keep fucking doing this.
My husband has to step the fuck up.
He has to do something about the sleep apnea so we both sleep better so I don't wake up every morning fantasizing about smothering him with a pillow... so that he can get up and get to work at a reasonable time instead of putting me in a position where I waste half my day waiting for him to get out of bed.
The resentment is strong.
The resentment becomes outright hatred.
It's cyclic.
But seriously.
I'm almost in loathing mode again.
Don't do a god damned thing to help out around the house without making it seem like you're conquering Everest. Eat twice as much food as you need to so I get screwed out of a lunch this week (hey-that's why I make four portions of things, not so you can eat for two)... keep in mind I cannot afford to eat out every day like you do... I eat out for lunch once or twice a month. Maybe. If I'm lucky.
Regardless... you're eating two portions... you're not working out... your fucking shirts do not fit and you walk around with an inch or two of exposed belly yet continue to insist that you wear a size large t-shirt... but you're gonna lose weight sitting on the couch playing phone games, watching sports and eating twice as much as everyone else in the household. Yes. I see your master plan. You will simply explode.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
what's the rush
the amount of things I have to do is overwhelming and not knowing where to start is extremely frustrating. I know, start with the things that still need to be finished. I'm on it. Regardless, the realization that in order to empty the box in the front room I will have to paint two rooms simultaneously is rather... exhausting. So here I am. Errands to run, chores to do and I'm staring at Facebook with a cup of coffee waiting for my Kleptocat to return to me because the store I want to visit doesn't open for another half an hour and what's the rush?
The rush is the sheer amount of shit I have to do today and the fact that literally every second matters when you're hoping against hope for the opportunity to binge Grey's Anatomy later.
Tore the boy's room apart yesterday. Even the closet. It's amazing. Hopefully he won't ask for a single god damned thing back and I can get rid of it all in three months time... have to finish sorting the Legos and hoping to spend some time doing that later. Had to stop last night as my back was killing me and I'm pretty sure that the skin on my fingers was going to start cracking and bleeding from the pulling apart of so many of the tiny plastic pieces and do not let me forget to get the stuff from the backyard...
The rush is the sheer amount of shit I have to do today and the fact that literally every second matters when you're hoping against hope for the opportunity to binge Grey's Anatomy later.
Tore the boy's room apart yesterday. Even the closet. It's amazing. Hopefully he won't ask for a single god damned thing back and I can get rid of it all in three months time... have to finish sorting the Legos and hoping to spend some time doing that later. Had to stop last night as my back was killing me and I'm pretty sure that the skin on my fingers was going to start cracking and bleeding from the pulling apart of so many of the tiny plastic pieces and do not let me forget to get the stuff from the backyard...
Sunday, November 12, 2017
well fuck you too
System update incapacitated my phone for about 30 minutes and it was *all* bullshit. I don't have the option of starting the update whenever it's convenient, I have to be "asked" by my phone... after awhile "remind me later" is a response my phone will no longer find acceptable.
Once I'm informed that the update is complete... my phone still doesn't work because the update is not complete - the download is. It still needs to actually integrate the update into the system and *that* takes time that my phone kindly does not tell me it needs.
So it appears to crash, screen goes dark, notifications start coming in... but I cannot turn off the phone, restart the phone or even change the volume.
So I'm forced to listen to my phone chime and ding at me while I rage incoherently at it.
My lazy Sunday morning - killed in a fog of rage because I wanted to quickly check a text to make sure it wasn't something important..
Then Amazon had to send me *ANOTHER* Email asking me to update my payment information... because I forgot to update the card when the bank sent me a new one out of the blue because somewhere I used it had been compromised... but I FIXED THAT by going into my account and literally removing EVERY OTHER CARD that was there just a few minutes after placing the order. The order I placed last week. That I just now got an Email asking me to update payment info... which I did last week... my head fucking exploded.
All of this is on top of the joy of listening to the chorus of my husband's fucking alarm and his god damned nose for a solid 20 minutes ON MY DAY TO SLEEP IN. Do something about the sleep apnea before MY sleep deprivation causes problems... oops. Too late. I don't understand. I really don't fucking understand. You know that you have sleep apnea and you sleep like absolute shit because of it... your spouse is CONSTANTLY complaining about how your snoring - caused by your sleep apnea - is affecting her sleep in a very negative way... but do you do anything about it? Nope. You just get quiet and act butt-hurt when she's pissed off because her sleep got fucked with... AGAIN... and you don't seem to give a fuck. Take fucking pills to go to sleep. Get dependent on them. Have to DOUBLE YOUR FUCKING DOSE because you've been on them for so many years. Pills make snoring worse. Some good answers. I thought I married an intelligent man.
To top it all off I've just informed the boy that if he fucking mentions the Nintendo Switch ONE MORE TIME he's not getting it for Christmas. He won't stop. Have we ordered it? We'd better order it. Has it been delivered? We have to make sure the package doesn't get stolen. When he opens it on Christmas NOTHING ELSE WILL MATTER and he's gonna set it up and play a level of a game before he opens the rest of his presents and on and on and on and on and I fucking made him cry.
I'm SICK OF IT.
Apparently I'm a ball of rage today.
I find it preferable to the ball of incredible sadness and misery I was for the last couple of days but I don't think anyone else will.
Once I'm informed that the update is complete... my phone still doesn't work because the update is not complete - the download is. It still needs to actually integrate the update into the system and *that* takes time that my phone kindly does not tell me it needs.
So it appears to crash, screen goes dark, notifications start coming in... but I cannot turn off the phone, restart the phone or even change the volume.
So I'm forced to listen to my phone chime and ding at me while I rage incoherently at it.
My lazy Sunday morning - killed in a fog of rage because I wanted to quickly check a text to make sure it wasn't something important..
Then Amazon had to send me *ANOTHER* Email asking me to update my payment information... because I forgot to update the card when the bank sent me a new one out of the blue because somewhere I used it had been compromised... but I FIXED THAT by going into my account and literally removing EVERY OTHER CARD that was there just a few minutes after placing the order. The order I placed last week. That I just now got an Email asking me to update payment info... which I did last week... my head fucking exploded.
All of this is on top of the joy of listening to the chorus of my husband's fucking alarm and his god damned nose for a solid 20 minutes ON MY DAY TO SLEEP IN. Do something about the sleep apnea before MY sleep deprivation causes problems... oops. Too late. I don't understand. I really don't fucking understand. You know that you have sleep apnea and you sleep like absolute shit because of it... your spouse is CONSTANTLY complaining about how your snoring - caused by your sleep apnea - is affecting her sleep in a very negative way... but do you do anything about it? Nope. You just get quiet and act butt-hurt when she's pissed off because her sleep got fucked with... AGAIN... and you don't seem to give a fuck. Take fucking pills to go to sleep. Get dependent on them. Have to DOUBLE YOUR FUCKING DOSE because you've been on them for so many years. Pills make snoring worse. Some good answers. I thought I married an intelligent man.
To top it all off I've just informed the boy that if he fucking mentions the Nintendo Switch ONE MORE TIME he's not getting it for Christmas. He won't stop. Have we ordered it? We'd better order it. Has it been delivered? We have to make sure the package doesn't get stolen. When he opens it on Christmas NOTHING ELSE WILL MATTER and he's gonna set it up and play a level of a game before he opens the rest of his presents and on and on and on and on and I fucking made him cry.
I'm SICK OF IT.
Apparently I'm a ball of rage today.
I find it preferable to the ball of incredible sadness and misery I was for the last couple of days but I don't think anyone else will.
Sunday, November 5, 2017
the problem with sunday
Sundays are hard. They're hard because they're my only real day off... I don't have to work, I don't have to take the boy to school, I can sleep in and lay about the house... but they're also the only day we're really together as a family, so it's the day for family outings and such... but they're also the day that I feel is best to catch up on the stuff that I fell behind on during the work week... but then... I just want to do nothing all day and fuck it all.
So the coffee cup is empty and the joint is gone and I'm struggling with what to do with myself.
I can sit here and waste time for hours, I've proven my skills.
The thing is... no matter what choice I make today... I'll feel as though I wasted the day. Sunday is about finding balance. Doing just enough of each thing that I wish to accomplish to feel that I've had a productive day... yet not feel as though I wasted my opportunity for a lazy day.
This probably means that yard work is better done on Tuesday.
So far I've managed to balance today fairly well but I'm starting to get anxious about getting things done and am finding it difficult to do nothing.
Damn first world problems and shit.
So the coffee cup is empty and the joint is gone and I'm struggling with what to do with myself.
I can sit here and waste time for hours, I've proven my skills.
The thing is... no matter what choice I make today... I'll feel as though I wasted the day. Sunday is about finding balance. Doing just enough of each thing that I wish to accomplish to feel that I've had a productive day... yet not feel as though I wasted my opportunity for a lazy day.
This probably means that yard work is better done on Tuesday.
So far I've managed to balance today fairly well but I'm starting to get anxious about getting things done and am finding it difficult to do nothing.
Damn first world problems and shit.
Friday, November 3, 2017
depression fucking sucks
I read a lot of bullshit on the internet.
I don't know why.
It's entertaining but essentially useless.
Brides tell the how they were left at the alter.
Retail workers share their worst customers.
I eat this shit up and I know damn well that I'm doing it to avoid the things I should be doing... in some cases I get so caught up in Ask Amy and Miss Manners clicking from page to page and cussing out ad after ad when I honestly just want to read my book.
So why don't I open the book?
It's right there.
Right next to me.
Instead I get pissed off about the people who can't seem to deal with a co-worker who won't stop drinking their beverages. I get irritated at the guy whose fiance wants more time to plan their wedding and isn't willing to consider a short engagement... when the dude's mom is fucking dieing. Dump. Her. Now.
An hour goes by and I realize I haven't eaten dinner, I haven't done my chores and now I don't have time to read, or watch my shows, or work on any of the projects I have piling around me... mocking me.
I do this to avoid... But why do I avoid the pleasure of reading for a little before dinner? Why do I skip dinner so I can do my chores? Why do I go to bed hungry and unsatisfied because I never took the time to watch one of my shows... even though when I got home from work I had plenty of time to get everything done...
I don't know why.
It's entertaining but essentially useless.
Brides tell the how they were left at the alter.
Retail workers share their worst customers.
I eat this shit up and I know damn well that I'm doing it to avoid the things I should be doing... in some cases I get so caught up in Ask Amy and Miss Manners clicking from page to page and cussing out ad after ad when I honestly just want to read my book.
So why don't I open the book?
It's right there.
Right next to me.
Instead I get pissed off about the people who can't seem to deal with a co-worker who won't stop drinking their beverages. I get irritated at the guy whose fiance wants more time to plan their wedding and isn't willing to consider a short engagement... when the dude's mom is fucking dieing. Dump. Her. Now.
An hour goes by and I realize I haven't eaten dinner, I haven't done my chores and now I don't have time to read, or watch my shows, or work on any of the projects I have piling around me... mocking me.
I do this to avoid... But why do I avoid the pleasure of reading for a little before dinner? Why do I skip dinner so I can do my chores? Why do I go to bed hungry and unsatisfied because I never took the time to watch one of my shows... even though when I got home from work I had plenty of time to get everything done...
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