Tag Archives: sad

Scripture is a Distance-Maker

27 Jun

Mostly it makes me sad when Dayton has ignorant, hateful, judgments.

Here is my rambling rant sadness:  And quoting verse only creates more of a divide.  When religious people dehumanize thegod hates fag idiot argument and start quoting verses, it does 2 things:  Quickly renders the more liberal or gay person quiet–as they (usually) cannot, from memory, quote opposing verses.  Squarely places the argument inside a book that does not have an equal value to each side of the argument.  The church person has placed faith into the word of the book as coming straight from God, while the other side, may think the book is inaccurate, pieced together by the most influential people of the day, interpreted in such a way as to accomplish current ends, and not scientifically proven.  No matter what the thoughts about the Bible, each side is now focusing on its contents rather than the current effects on actual human lives and relationships.

What I think church is supposed to do for people:

-Give them a safe, hopeful feeling because life, choices, death, and the after-life are in someone else’s capable hands.

*This requires faith.

-Bring people closer together.  Through common beliefs, values, and goals.

*This means pledging allegiance to the doctrine, attending group services and events, and having a common cause.

-Support those less fortunate and educate them.

*”less fortunate” is subjective, as in the case of Native Americans.  Educate means indoctrinate into the popularly held religious convictions.

rainbow 3 (2)I’m not saying these goals or the requirements to achieve them are right or wrong.  Religion can be a very positive, uplifting thing.  BUT we have to remember religion is an institution with a power structure.  And capital behind it.  So good intentions can be skewed by those at the top in order to make money ultimately.  Churches need more and increasing members to pay their bills.  They need those people to unquestioningly act for their church.  And the goals may get icky depending on the political agenda of the leaders.

So back to Dayton.  A small, conservative town, where the biggest employer is the school district.  This means most education goes as high as a Masters degree.  It also means the incomes stop in the $50,000/year mark.  If that.  And peopleVC cemetary may or may not have experienced travel and diversity.  I suspect most people have taken 1-2 big trips to other cultures and viewpoints if any.  So I’m not judging my town, but there are reasons they may have a more narrow life view.

Instead of judgement, I would like to see compassion.  Instead of heated arguments about verse, I want each side to stand in the shoes of the other party.  Really, I believe arguing with a fool–makes two.  I think the best way to handle such hateful attitudes is to be that person that lives an upstanding life.  A person that those Dayton people didn’t realize was gay.  It would show them the same person they always knew and liked, is still the same despite being gay too.  That is what really makes people change their views–knowing someone personally who doesn’t fall under the stereotypes.  Someone good, and kind, and educated.  I hope by living an upstanding life, and showing people through my actions that their hate and judgement is wrong–not the way I love, that real change can occur.

And I’m proud of my mom for having the courage and inclination to post a gay-positive sentiment on her Facebook, even if it was quickly shot down by well-intentioned, though ignorant people of Dayton.  I hope that doesn’t discourage her from changing her own mind to a more accepting viewpoint.

Holding Ground

14 Jun

An old (obsolete now, thank goodness) draft I guess I forgot to publish in December:

Cool sees a psychologist or maybe psychiatrist or both for her bi-polar and anxiety issues.  Sometimes they do really neat things (more on this later) to diagnose, clarify symptoms, or help support her condition.  Like the EEG–or some initials meaning they show colors in different parts of the brain to show activity level.  I want one!  Anyway, at one of these sessions, they told Cool that irritability lights up the entire brain.  Most emotions and stimuli are relegated to one portion of the brain or another.  But when you’re irritable, it’s the whole thing.  So it makes sense you can’t think about anything else when you’re irate or belligerent–let alone concentrate.

Which is largely why I temporarily discontinued communication with my mom early in the semester.  Aside from being severely annoyed and angry, I just didn’t want to be preoccupied when I was supposed to be focusing on school.  An unintended consequence of not talking to my mom, was missing out on my dad.  With my mom, I could still see her activity on Facebook.  So I at least knew a little bit of what was going on with her.  But my Dad–not really active on The Book.  So I just haven’t talked or heard from him in months.  And I worried something might happen to him during this time and it would make me super-sad and regretful and resentful toward my mom.  I mean, I would miss my mom too, if she were perminantly gone–but she is still relatively young.  And so ornery it’s difficult for me to picture her mortality   My dad is still virile–but he’s 15 years older then her, so of course I worry more about him.  And I missed him.  Miss him.

So now the semester is over, and I should call them.  But I HAVE been busy.  And it’s a little awkward.  Do I call and act as if nothing happened?  Or do we discuss the problem and take the chance of getting heated again?  It’s hard to say.  But I know I would feel terrible if something did happen and my dad was no longer around. . .

In Livid Color

22 May

The basement at work was a mess!  A fucking mess–yeah, the f-word was warranted.

earthquake 1

I didn’t want to do it.  It was a horrid mess and dangerous and disorganized, and I knew I COULD do a great job with it.  But I also knew it would take time, be dirty, hard work, and everyone would be mad. Because everyone at my work (all vet hospitals everywhere?) hates change, and cleaning would mean moving things.  I also knew, whatever work I did would be immediately undone.  Undone by both people wanting the OLD way back, and by people haphazardly shoving things where they didn’t belong.  So I realized it would be a challenge and any benefits wouldn’t last.

So I left it alone for 3 years.  I wanted nothing to do with that tedious job when all the thanks I would get was anger over change, and then, the same ol’ mess.  But then, my boss was talking about having us clean it to be legit for OSHA.  And really, that’s important.  What if a cat got down there and was poisoned by Monsanto?  What if a co-worker was hurt by a sharp tool while trying to grab food?  It WAS a task that needed doing.

And having to clean it as a group, during work hours, while being interrupted by clients, would be worse then just doing a good job of it during off hours by myself.  So I reluctantly volunteered to get it done before the business day started on Wednesdays when I’m there by myself cleaning anyway.  But I gave the disclaimer that I would have to move things, and I must be able to do it in grubby clothes as well as uninterrupted –over 3 or 4 Wednesdays.

My boss was amicable to those conditions (this was a job that really needed doing and of course nobody wanted to do it) so I jumped in whole-heartedly.  I figured if I was going to do it at all, I was going to do it RIGHT.  And I really did.  I was invested.

Honestly, I couldn’t have had a better attitude about the whole thing.  And I could not have worked harder, or done a better job.  I picked piles of random items off the dusty floor, organized piles of like items, scrutinized shelf-space to see where common items could be grouped together, and did heavy lifting and tedious organizing.  All of the chemicals went into rubbermaid boxes, all sharp objects into a lockable closet.  The basement slowly transformed from a dangerous vortex of chemicals and lost things and unknown garbage, into a safe, functional, visually-appealing storage room.


The trouble came with the storage of Rx food.  You see, our receptionist tracks it, orders it, and sells a good majority of it.  And SHE is probably the most anti-change person at work.  But my work had the dumbest system in place for years.  The canned food was strewn around the basement, but the dry food was stored in the tiny isolation room upstairs.  Then, orders of dog food were set upon tables in the midst of the basement.  It was a real mess, and totally impractical–but I knew changing it would cause strife because that’s the way everyone was used to it.

But only thinking of functionality, order, and ease for EVERYone at work, I preceded to stack it nicely.  I moved the canned flats from a small shelf, a small side-mounted cupboard,  the bench, and a couple of side shelves to one larger set of shelves, where it could be in one easy to see location.  And this went over well with all staff.  Lovely surprise to me!

But then I had an extra empty shelf.  And I knew it would get cluttered with disorganized crap right away if I didn’t fill it.  So I thought–what can I put there?  And it came to me–it would really be ideal to have all the food in one place.  I’ll move the dry food from the top floor to the basement.  But there was a series of hoops to jump through:  The small shelves were fastened to the wall (2nd vet pried them off for me), the shelf upstairs was heavy (my boss carted it down the stairs with me), the shelf we just struggled to get downstairs wouldn’t fit down the basement stairs (3 people helped disassemble those shelves), those shelves were weird to put together (the book-keeper helped me re-build them), there was a large amount of dry food in stock to carry down 2 flights of stairs (3 of us hauled them over an hour).  Got all that?  So there was nothing easy about moving the dry food to the basement so all the food could be in one place.  AND everyone (except the receptionist) helped accomplish it.  But it would be easy, and worthwhile, and practical so it was all worth it.

I came in early to work on part 3 of the basement project (the side room containing Christmas decorations, I131 leftovers, and large yard items) and to my surprise half of the main room had been disassembled.  Similar items I had so carefully stacked off the floor were tossed to the floor randomly.  I’m sure if it had been any easier of a job, I would have come in to the dry food placed in its former locale.  The food looked much as it had before I touched it–with the addition of all the dry.  On the order of 6 groupings of items were moved out of probably hundreds, but it was an affront none-the-less.  They (the spoiled receptionist) had carelessly un-organized my work.  And I’m sure there had been a hissy fit about the changes I’d made.

They (namely, my boss, who ultimately controls all aspects of the hospital) let her move things back where they were.  Under the pretense there was no room for the new food.  Which I KNOW is B.S., because they also moved food I already found a place for, back to the middle.  I’m sure it was all about being change-averse.


Tears came to my eyes.  They had figuratively punched me in the stomach.  All of my hard work, it felt like, was compromised.  Why continue cleaning and organizing?  They were sure to hate it and ruin it anyway. . .  Then, the more I thought about it–the less sad I was and the madder I became.  WHY would they be so thankless about my working so hard to make all of our lives easier?  More importantly, why was this allowed?  I had to say something.  I had worked too hard to apologize for moving things.  I had gone too far, to let them selfishly destroy it.  This wasn’t right.

When my boss came in, I truthfully told her I almost cried when I saw the basement.  And true to form, she (hating confrontation and wanting everyone to like her) said she had nothing to do with it. And I told her she put me in a bad position then didn’t have the decency to protect me when the going got rough (receptionist temper-tantrum).  Then everyone made excuses that there wasn’t enough room.  Which they just may have believed.  Because vets don’t pay attention to details such as who is doing what work, or how big the food stock is normally.

And now they are buying another shelf.  Because they really think there was not enough room–when I know very well there are 3 empty shelves down there and isn’t it funny the tables are set up exactly as before?  Maybe I’ll learn one of these days not to put myself out there by doing anything extra, because I know where my boss’ allegiance lies–and they are not with me.

volcano 1

On the plus side when my boss “offered” me to work “some extra hours” translation:  Wanted me to work full-time over the summer for no full-time benefits, I had no problem saying an unequivocal no.  If I hadn’t been through the incident that morning I would have taken on extra hours I don’t want or need, out of pure guilt.  So there’s that. . .

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Same Chance as Everybody Else

2 Apr

That’s what every student should have for a test.

In Speech Sciences, we were to have a “quiz” covering 5 chapters today.  The chapters were ALL the diseases in each system that impact speech.  So characteristics, assessments, and treatments had to be memorized.  The quiz also covered the long, long, long and complex theories and models of speech production (5 models, 2 theories, 5 problems) and speech perception (9 models and 6 problems) and everything that impacts those.  So that’s 27 complex issues to memorize and understand.  And the hearing chapter.

Trachea, EsophagusI studied my little heart out.  Starting during spring break.  I read and outlined all the chapters, made flash cards, drew pictures and numonics.  Looked at them every single day, including Forster-Friday when I had to go to work early, have short lunch, and clean after work.  I worked very hard to know all the information.  I need to get 62 points out of the 64 points left in the course to keep my A+.  And that’s what I will do, or otherwise this is time and money wasted.  I NEED the GPA this time.

We always have 30 minutes to complete these “quizzes.”  But this time the prof said we were going to take it at the beginning of class rather then the end.  So I knew there would be a time-crunch for me.  These are multiple choice, and seeing all the answers confuses me, so I have to cover the answers, formulate MY response, then read through the answers to see which one best matches my answers.  Then, I double check everything and make sure I completed all parts of every question and didn’t skip anything or make any dumb errors.  So I use the all of the time.

Knowing this, I moved from my preferred seat by the door, to the very front row so I could be among the first to receive the test.  Because he starts timing from when HE hands the papers out, not from the time the last person gets the test.  Doing this, meant I had to risk Suzanne [who I despise and is stupid and talkative and annoys me and messes me up] sitting next to me.  And of course she did.

wild dog purpleHalfway through today’s test, the prof told the class they could quietly walk around the room and look at the group presentation instructions he had just taped to walls around the room.  Umm, what?!  I’M still testing.  Within the allotted time limit.  So of course now people that finished early (the majority of the class) are walking around.  Then, they are making me move my legs in order to get by me.  And they are clunking up the stairs right in front of me.  Then, groups are talking.  I was trying to concentrate, but it was nearly impossible.

And I tried to shoot the prof looks like, Are you KIDDING me?!  Or–hey, tell them to be quiet.  But he did not look in my direction.  Until I scrawled on the top of my test “Test environment was very disruptive.”  Then, when I was ready to turn in my paper, he sat on the stairs right in front of me, looking apologetic, and said “How was it?”  And I answered honestly that it wasn’t good.  And he wasstate-fair-falconry-1180523-blog like, “I know, I understand and feel the same way you do.”  This–inside me head–What the fuck buddy, what do you mean you feel the same way?  YOU are the one who controls what goes on inside this class.  And out loud, “It was a very unacceptable way to take a test.”  He said, “I know, and we’ll look it it and maybe make accommodations, you are one of the more conscientious students.”  Which I don’t know what that means, but it sounds like cheating to me, and if he would have just conducted the test fairly, it’s totally unnecessary.  And I must have looked sad and frustrated (I was both) because he said, “Don’t worry, we’ll look at it.”

This is my life.  How is it that no matter how much preparation  no matter how much studying, or planning, or changing my own behavior and factors under my control, I can’t win.

“Dreams. I Have Dreams.”

23 Jan

In my dream last night, Brandi Carlile was the feature.  Cool and my parents and I were in Reno, Brandi Carlile 3and on a marquee for one of the hotel/casinos it said Brandi was to sign autographs during some [unremembered or unknown] time-span!  So of course we went.  But obviously, I did not have any merch, CDs, or anything appropriate for Brandi to sign.  So my mom gave me this picture she had recently taken of the inside of one of the hotel rooms at that particular casino’s hotel.  It was your indistinct, room with two made beds.  But it was something.

Brandi Carlile 4Because we were in Nevada, not as many people had heard of Ms. Carlile, so there was no giant line!  Lucky!  I walked right up to the table she was sitting at.  Unfortunetly, since I had just been hanging out with family, I did not look adorable in any way.  I was wearing some ball cap.  When I got up there, I couldn’t think of anything to say either.  And just held out my awkward picture for her to sign the back of.

Seeing a person in a cap, with a weird hotel room pic, Brandi assumed I was a tourist  and probably a foreign one.  She kept saying things like, “Welcome to the West!”  and “You should see such-and-such landmark while you’re in town.”  And even though I grew up in Brandi Carlile 5Northern Nevada, and spent the majority of my life in the West, I didn’t correct her.  Because that would be (more?) awkward.  And if Brandi Carlile assumes you’re a tourist, you just go with it.

And she handed back the signed pic, and had written a fairly lengthy autograph on the back [yay!].  But it was in a scrawl that I couldn’t decipher, so I had to have my mom (who is well-versed in 3rd grade handwriting) read it to me.  And it continued on the same, “Welcome to, and enjoy the west track.”  So not as relevant to me as I had hoped.  Then, I moved the picture, and a portion of the ink smeared.  Very unlucky.  This was not going to make a very good memory–or story.

Brandi Carlile 6And I woke up feeling very luckless indeed, despite getting Brandi Carlile’s autograph and not having to wait in an obnoxiously long line to get it.  I’m hoping one day I can get it for real when I’m awake.  One day while we’re both stoll young, too.  And I hope it goes nothing like the awkward parts of the dream, but everything like the non-waiting, no planning, no trouble parts.  Maybe I ought to carry some Brandi merch and CDs with me wherever I go. . .  Just in case.  Lesson learned.

Semester Sadness

16 Dec

I AM tired of studying and working on projects.  And of course I’m really tired of dealing with arrogant professors who don’t stick to a syllabus.  But something about my last day of class didn’t make me excited.  Not like I thought I would be.  And I couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t be ecstatic for winter break–who wouldn’t be?  Then, I realized–I like school.  But more than that I like work again when I am only there a few hours a week. I was actually enjoying my time with the cats, not minding the long days, and detaching from the bad stuff:  Bitchy co-workers, annoying rules, rude clients.  The burn out, the bitterness, and the fatigue I had been feeling all last year was gone.  Mainly, because so was I.  20 or so hours at my job made me feel substantially better then 30+ hours.  Being off of school means more time spent at work, and that was bumming me out.

suitcase 001

Not only was work a LOT better as a part-time employee, there are great things about being a student.  Though I’m not a big fan of being stressed, and no one likes to be relegated to reading solely textbooks and school notes–I like being at home.  Any excuse to remain in my jammies, is a good one.  So even if I have to be studying at the time, I like NOT being scheduled, having to get dressed, or driving around town.  Though this is mainly a bonus, it’s mostly about not getting saturated with my job–and all the negative stuff that goes along with it.

cleido larynx 3

The other thing amazing at school, is seeing my efforts pay off.  The harder I work, the better my grades.  The more my professors like me, and compliment me through good grades and good notes within assignments.  Unlike work, which is largely thankless–school actually praises me.  I like seeing my work-ethic get acknowledged –which it never does at work.  There are no evaluations, grades, or compliments at work, while at school I get all those things.  You can never study or work enough, but at least with exams, the studying becomes worth it.  The work?  I’m still criticized  under-appreciated, and under-paid.

Articulatory System 018

Lastly, I was more sad than happy to see the semester end, because I can see school taking me somewhere.  Unlike my job, which makes me feel like I’m wasting time and treading water, school is a building block.  It makes me feel awesome to feel like I’m actively doing something to improve my current situation.  With every assignment, test, and final grade–I come closer to getting a real career and moving out of SpoKompton and up in life.

flashcards 004

So this makes me contemplate the summer.  The prospect of going back to work full-time really depresses me.  Like, I don’t even want to think about it.  Yet, only electives are offered, which may or may not do much for my transcript and it costs money.  But, an excuse to remain part time would do much for my psyche–so maybe I’ll figure out how to make that work.  So I don’t have to as much.

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Near Tears–at School

1 Oct

I had been looking forward to school a lot, because I hated work (a lot) last week and even yesterday–when things were supposed to be better.  I always look forward to my school days, because I can see my classes taking me somewhere.  And it feels good to learn.  Most of the time.

Though I had practiced constructing a cleido larynx twice (once in the summer, and once two weekends ago) my in-class attempt. . .  Well, sucked.  I didn’t finish.  And here’s why:  We had an hour and the instructions were very specific.  The prof had asked us to show various, structures on the cartilages.  And before I knew it, most of the class had been checked off by the T.A.s that they had completed the structure and were able to point and name each item.  And I had just finished my last cartilage!  I still had to construct and place all ALL of the muscles!  And there were a LOT.  I was embarrassed for being so slow, frustrated that my larynx was all whack and unfinished, and sad I was about to get a horrible grade in a class where there are no points to spare.  I tried to salvage the thing by hastily throwing random muscles in the most obvious of places, but my hands were shaking, and there were only three people left in the room.  When a T.A. asked if I was ready to be checked off (she was the last of them to leave) I had to regretfully and with tearful voice tell her I was not finished.

And to make matters worse, my professor, oblivious to my crises came over and started chatting with my about dysphagia–an interest of mine–but not during emergency laryngeal muscle construction.  Finally, I told her that I was the only student that hadn’t finished the lab and I never got checked off.  It was–mortifying and terrible.

She just asked me to point out what I did make.  And she kept saying things like, oh you weren’t supposed to do that muscle–it’s too difficult.  And that muscle is hard to construct so I didn’t ask you to make it. . .  Then, she informed me that the larynx wasn’t for a grade (which I’m pretty sure I saw in  various places that it was for points), and signed off my check-off sheet.  But the result didn’t make me feel any less awful.

And I did look at the syllabus and the lab sheet and the thing was worth 20 points.  And I want to EARN my grades.  A 4.0 is no good if it doesn’t really belong to me.  So I went home and made laynx #4, which is pictured here.  It’s still not as great as I’d like, but I made it under class conditions with an hour time limit–so I could say I had also done the lab.  And I e-mailed the pics to my Anatomy professor–to prove I could make a clay larynx, and show her I am not a total laryngeal muscle-loser. . .


28 Sep

It feels just awful.

Fall is in the air.  Green Bluff Apple Fesitval with it llamas and you-pick produce are open and ready for me.  OktoberFests are beginning–I was invited to one and heard about two additional ones.  Hot air balloons–really?!  Invitation to pizza on the patio after work.  Fall brews are on tap everywhere.  I LOVE a festival!!!  There is running to be done–I want to set some PRs in this crisp air.  Horror movie marathons and pizza-baking need to commence.  Cool is ready to play.  I want to play!

And yet.

On Tuesday I have an Anatomy exam.  And I had to work all day today, half a day tomorrow, and all day Monday.  Which leaves the weekend to study.  And it makes me feel like I’m missing out.  Like I’ve always missed out.  When I worked so many hours, every other weekend, and all holidays at Noah’s Ark–I knew one day it would pay off.  When I worked on Chemistry pre-labs, physics practice problems, and balanced diets for Nutrition instead of going out with friends–I knew one day I could have all the fun I wanted.

And yet–I’m here.  I missed out, and yet I’m still back at square one instead of reaping the rewards of my hard work.  And I feel sorry for myself.  And tempted to blow off the hard-core studying I know I should do to get that SUPER-important A on exam 2, A+ in Anatomy, and that 4.0 GPA.  So instead of thinking about all the fun I’m missing this weekend, here is something to remind me of why school is so important:

This time is different from undergrad and pre-vet.

I will have tried my absolute best in this class.

I can draw on my anatomical knowledge in the future.

This will help prepare me for grad/doctorate school.

It will feel good to look at that exam and be confident that I know the answers.

Nothing feels worse then looking at a test and knowing nothing.

Except maybe looking at a poor grade written at the top of your test.

This way, I won’t always have to play catch-up with grades.

It’s MUCH easier to keep an A, then be on the stupid borderline.

My liver doesn’t need all that beer anyway.

I can always study my cheat sheets while taking a walk outside.

I’ll feel rested at work on Monday.

Fall is just beginning.  Even if I miss it–I get a Thanksgiving and X-mas break.

Not going will save money.

I can really succeed at this major in this school, if I put effort towards it.

An exam Tues allows me to get ahead the rest of the wk (when study time is built in to my schedule)

The festivals will feel better if I attend them after I’ve aced the test.

I can move someplace I truly like.

There will be countless festivals and concerts in Boulder.

I can get a job that is satisfying and that takes me places in life.

And I’ll have a better schedule.

One day I can sit back and relax b/c I’ll have made good money at a career.

So, it’s time for me to buckle down.  I can do it, because this is important to me.  I’ve rearranged everything in my life to put school first–so now I just need to do it.  Quit thinking about things I’m missing, and think instead of what a great opportunity and second start this is.  How this is my way out of depressing life circumstances.  And I really do want to do well.

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Who Holds the Cards?

23 Jun

In a job–it’s mostly the employer.  Why do you think so many people aspire to be their own boss?  Sure, I could get a job almost anywhere my resume’ (and luck) allowed, but the rules AT the job–completely out of my control.  Employees are completely dependent on the whims of management.  It’s not as if I think work should be a democracy–that’s not it at all.  I think being wholly dependent is a bad place to be in.  I have never liked being up against a wall.

I was upset when my boss yanked away my insurance and changed the number of hours required to be a full-time employee (just for me?) seemingly instantaneously.  And it wasn’t really losing the health insurance–though lack of notice was crappy.  I never really used it anyway:  My wisdom teeth were paid for using Care Credit.  And the one medical thing I use–dentistry–not covered.  At all.  More on THIS in a later post.  So losing something I never used (or wanted) in the first place didn’t matter all that much.  Though maybe I should bite the bullet and hurry to get a new pair of frames since the last time I got glasses was in 2008.  Luckily, I was smart enough to get a huge supply of contacts while living in the (cheaper) Midwest, so I still have plenty of those. . .

Back to the injustice:  It wasn’t really the amount of hours to be considered full-time I had a big problem with. . .  Though I can tell you I will be unhappy if EVERY employee does not have to adhere to the new rules.  If someone doesn’t work the NEW amount of full-time hours, yet still gets any of the perks (vacation) of full-time it will make me irate.  It shouldn’t always just be me getting the short end of every stick around there.

What made me upset was more the realization that the Employee Manual was just an empty symbol.  This new decision, reached on short notice, rendered every piece of information IN the manual meaningless.  This deviation showed my employer would jerk us around at will.  Don’t get me wrong I knew she could, but I thought the Employee Manual offered some guidance/expectation/and security for both sides.  Because somehow employer/employee relationships seem like a war–or at least strategic game.  We are made enemies by forming the management/subordinate relationship at all.

But I spoke my mind.  Though confrontation makes me uncomfortable.  And when I get heated, tears come annoyingly to my eyes making me look like an unstable, overwrought ball-sack (thanks mom) and I HATE that, because it always happens when I feel strongly about something and want to convey it in a clear way.  Which that last run-on sentence was not.  Clear, I mean.  So I got (annoyingly) teary, but held my ground.

And surprisingly my boss not only listened to my concerns, AND reconsidered the timing of the changes, BUT also said she supported me and would listen (and has in the past) to my reasonable concerns.  She went so far as to tell me I wouldn’t get fired.  Which was surprising to me.  And I suspect untrue as EVERYone has their limit of what they are willing to handle (I know I do).  It isn’t like I think my boss would purposely go out of her way to screw me over–but I know she might do it unintentially.  Or because I’m last on her employee-priority list.  If it came to me and someone else–I know she’d chose everyone else’s will over mine–mostly because this has happened before *cough-summer schedule*

So that’s the newest story.  Which makes me all the more excited to accumulate all the education I can, so I can climb higher in employment, make more money, and move out of here.

And though there was no good place in this post to state a disclaimer–>I meant to tell you, my readers, that starting soon, I will post every other day, instead of the every day (save for last Thursday, which I thought I had posted on).  I need to start getting in a school mindset and study anatomy more than I blog.

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Anything Else??!

23 May

Today (I wrote this yesterday, actually) really made me feel glum.  Angry, sad, resentful, hopeless, trapped, frustrated, disliked, annoyed, paranoid, depressed, agitated, infuriated, irate, unimportant, suspicious, pissed, sorry for myself, restricted, mad, un-trusting, worthless, unloved.  All in cycles.  You’d think I was the bipolar one.

Cool:  Her mood has been a range of 3-4 on a scale of 1 (suicidal) to 10 (manic euphoria).  She is withdrawn, depressed, listless, and as a result everything is more difficult.  She’s tired all the time.  When she does show any emotion it’s annoyance–at me.  She has no money.  She can’t find anyone to borrow from (as she learned her financial habits FROM her parents).  She owes her psychiatrist $250 for the LAST appointment, so she had to cancel her appointment on Monday.  That she needs.  Having no money, makes her feel like a loser, which makes her MORE depressed.  And she needs the doctor even more–a real catch-22.  She’s going to try to sell her plasma tomorrow and Friday to get money. . .

Work:  Informed me I WOULD be switching my co-worker days off.  Remember my post turned rant on this very issue?  Look back in the archives, to refresh.  So the co-worker heard me say no to trading and went over my head to my boss.  Meaning I have to work with Dr. Makes Me Effing Crazy every Thursday, Friday, and alternating Saturdays for 10 weeks of the summer.  I might will go crazy.  Meanwhile, my co-worker gets the perfect schedule–of Monday through Wednesday on with the faster, cleaner, easier to work with doctor ONLY, Thursday through Sunday OFF.  The receptionist will keep her every other 3 day weekends (I’m certain), and the tech will now have Fridays in addition to her regular Saturdays off.  My reward?  I get to have no more than 30 hours in the fall while I’m taking 6 credits.  Fair?

School:  Good news is going part-time means I get to put my undergrad loans into forbearance, which will save me about $300 per month.  Bad news is the loan companies (3 different ones, no less) require verification of part-time status.  Of course, the school, requires forms to verify the loans–one form per loan company.  Maddeningly, the school, true to their colors, is making me jump through a bunch of hoops.  Despite filling out every blank on their own form, they already “discarded” one request all-together without so much as a notification, and refuse to verify enrollment until the first day of classes–which is specified nowhere on the paperwork.  And the website says, “Students needing to verify their enrollment for a future term.”  My emphasis on future.  But this gal, called me (at work) and accused me of not putting enough information on the form.  Even though I filled all the blanks on THEIR form.  And told me she can’t verify my intentions, I’d have to re-submit on the first day of class.  Never mind, I could still drop my classes for full refund at that point–that’s the arbitrary and annoying date.  Even though I owe tuition money before that.  Oh–and I have to re-fill and re-fax the paperwork–she can’t put it on file until it is useful.  And obviously, I pissed off the one person that handles these verifications with my implication (through pointed questions and tone of voice) she wasn’t properly doing her job.  Good for me!

Additive:  1-3) The co-worker who gamed me by manipulating the schedule, asked me at the beginning of the week if I could take my half day Wednesday.  This meant I would have to go to the bank on a work day.  We don’t have direct deposit at my work b/c some spoiled bitch hates change, so I tried to deposit my check at the ATM Monday.  Which I hate doing, because it made me have to go out of my way, winding through downtown in rush hour.  Only to find they had closed yet another branch of Bank of America.  To get it done, I had to go out of my way to deposit my check before work.  While co-worker left work early.  4) The weather went from summery and 80s to rainy and 55.  And gray.  5)  My face is breaking out–really big and ugly.  6)  I’m sure there’s more, but it’s a new day today (the day I’m editing my writing) and I’m tired of thinking about how awful yesterday was.

I took my very first (EVER) paid vacation day (4 hours really) this Saturday to give myself a full three day weekend, when the rest of the country is taking their Memorial Day weekend for granted.  I need that time off.  Badly.