This is my therapy.

antics and semantics

Last week was better than the week before, as far as work goes, but we still had our bumps.

On Wednesday, one of the attorneys asked for copies of some old letters, and I volunteered to send them. This is what I do all the time, after all, and I thought it would take about a minute of my time. However, it turned out the letters had never been scanned into our electronic files, and the attorney who wrote them was long gone.

As I was realizing this, the boss walked by and facetiously asked if I'd found the letters. Then she laughed and said, "I knew you wouldn't, but you you just had to reply to that email so quickly, I thought I'd let you try." I asked her what next, and she suggested asking the admins if any of them could find the letters.

One of them found the missing documents pretty quickly, and I thought that was the end of it until I learned one of the letters--the most important one, of course--was not in the packet. So the next day I asked one of the admins for more help, and he said he didn't know what else to suggest except looking in the file room.

So I had to ask my boss for a key to the file room, and she seemed a little perturbed (though still amused) that I was still on the hunt. About 24 hours had passed by this time, and apparently she thought I'd been searching high and low for that damn letter the whole time. She shook her head and said I could try looking in the file room but I probably wouldn't find it.

After searching through piles and piles of paper in the black hole that is the file room, I took the key back and admitted defeat. She chastised me for wasting time on something that wasn't my job, and then she said she'd take care of it.

Question: Why didn't she offer to take care of it from the beginning and tell me not to worry about it, since it wasn't my responsibility???

Answer: To teach me a lesson, apparently.

Sure enough, after the admins found the letter, she forwarded one of their emails to me and wrote, "A lesson learned...know your team!"

I know my fucking team, bitch. But I did learn a lesson: on this job, being proactive can only lead to ridicule and shame.

As unbearable as this condescending bullshit was, I continued working relentlessly and tried to get past it.

Friday afternoon, she called me into her office to tell me she still wanted to "realign some things," because the stats weren't quite where they needed to be. She went on for a bit about how I needed to focus on Day One referrals and nothing else. I was a little puzzled as to why she was telling me this again, because I'd been doing exactly that with a vengeance for the last couple of weeks. So I respectfully tried to clarify.

Me: What am I doing that I shouldn't be doing?

Boss (viciously): Did you not hear what I just said two sentences ago? I said nobody's doing anything wrong, and it really bothers me when people act like they're being attacked just because I'm trying to do my job...

Me: I guess what I meant to ask was what you would like me to do differently, since the stats aren't where you want them to be.

Boss: You just don't worry about the stats. You let me worry about that.

Me (in my head): Wait, what is this conversation even about?

She went on for a while about how she knows what she's talking about, and how the bosses are riding her all the time, and how "someone" insisted they knew how to do things better than she did, and she gave that a chance but it just wasn't working. She talked about how it was her job improve the stats and try to keep people happy.

"...and I even let you change your hours, and you didn't have ask me to, I just suggested it."

Exactly. I didn't ask her to, and I certainly don't consider it a favor.

She kept going on and on, and I wish I could recount the conversation better, but she seriously says the most nonsensical, incoherent things.

"...and I know you're capable," she said several times, sounding puzzled. WTF?

She finally managed to articulate that we're all doing well, but that she's trying to figure out what's making us fall just short of our goal.

Aha! After all the bullshit, we finally got to the real point. Then she told me she's heard lots of good things about me, I'm very personable, and she hears me on the phone and thinks I'm doing a good job. We agreed that I'd continue doing what I've been doing, and I went back to my desk.

She got in one more dig as I left, saying, "and no more chasing down letters for you!"

Does any of the above make any sense?

All I know is that I'm getting a funny feeling in my chest just writing about it. I'm still working on my own attitude, but I'm feeling the pressure big time and something is going to have to give eventually. I don't know if I can learn to tolerate this kind of malicious, divisive management.

I've been reading a book Ryan got me called "Do What You Are," and I picked it up again this weekend after letting it sit for a while. It discusses the Myers-Briggs personality types and several related theories, and it has given me a little fresh insight into why the boss and I clash so violently.

I'm primarily a feeler, so harmony and teamwork are extremely important to me. I also love to look at things from new perspectives, constantly using my creativity to seek new and better ways of doing things. I think these qualities, especially the second one, have been a major factor in the successes I've had so far.

But my current employer doesn't seem to place much value on these qualities at all. And since I'm a passionate person who makes decisions based on my own deeply held values, this drives me crazy!

Maybe I'm onto something. Maybe this book will help me use the whole disgusting, disheartening experience to develop specific standards for my next job. I certainly hope it'll prepare me to answer interview questions about why I want to leave this job without saying "My boss is bat shit crazy."

blog that bitch right out of my hair

Things got pretty awful at work last week...not "you're fired" or "I quit" awful...not throwing office equipment or stabbing people with scissors awful...just sick-feeling-in-the-stomach every morning, tossing-and-turning every night awful. I don't remember when my boss really went psychotic on us, but I do remember that my irritation turned to rage last Monday after a sequence of repeated proverbial slaps in the face.

We recently had a "customer service week" during which the bosses had to pretend to be nice, and they placated us with food, games and hollow praise. One of the games involved picking up pieces of paper from the floor, and some of them had notes granting one free hour off. I didn't get one, but the boss asked if everyone had found one and indicated she wanted everyone to get an hour off.

I answered her email in the simplest language I could, indicating that I did not get one of the special pieces of paper, and a few minutes later I heard her say "Yep, everybody got one."

Well, I thought it would be nice to take off an hour early the Friday before my one year anniversary with Ryan, so I emailed her a few days later to ask if I was supposed to get an hour off and, if so, could I use it on that date. No reply.

I emailed her again a couple of days later with the same questions. No reply.

I finally went to her office to ask about it, because I also needed a long lunch for a doctor visit and she hadn't responded to that request either.

"I don't care if you leave early," she said grudgingly, "but my referrals have to be in good shape."

That Friday was a slow day, and things were in pretty good shape when I left about 40 minutes early. She was out of the office for a conference, as were several of our attorneys, and a lot of people blatantly took advantage of the lack of supervision.

But who do you think she went after first thing Monday morning? She went to my coworker and said "I hope Katy didn't leave early Friday because I told her not to if the numbers aren't low. And the numbers aren't low." I don't even know what that means, but one of my coworkers came in several hours late and the other one snuck out early without permission, and we still managed to get things under control to a point that I felt comfortable leaving "with permission."

With the boss and all the attorneys back that Monday and working furiously to catch up, we got absolutely slammed. Of course, our boss had changed some of our procedures again, so in addition to being extremely busy we were also floundering a little with the new work flow.

And I was mad as balls that one little hour off had turned out to be such a hassle.

She's been hounding us like crazy since then, micromanaging us obsessively and trying to figure out how to get better "numbers" out of us. She sent several of her obnoxious, tyrannical emails on Tuesday, reminding us of this and that and basically complaining about what we hadn't been able to finish the day before, and that was when I reached my limit.

I replied to one of her emails and, very reasonably and professionally, explained that I'd been working my ass off, that we were behind due to an epic number of incoming referrals the day before, not because we were slacking off. And then I added, also very professionally, that her changing the rules on us slowed us down as well, that I didn't disagree with her decision, but that she has to understand that every time there's a change it's going to take some time for us to adjust and get back to our maximum efficiency.

It was all out war for the rest of the week.

She sent emails saying she's the boss and she knows what she's talking about, and we are to expect emails from her regarding our work and shouldn't take them personally. She started checking up on my work and sending me emails questioning minute details. She cornered me by the printer and asked if I was following the new guidelines, then said "Huh..." and shook her head like she didn't believe me when I said yes.

She nagged me for information that she no doubt thought I was refusing to send out of spite, when in fact there was just a lag in the email system. She called me into her office, furious, and informed me that "if we're going to start getting defensive out there, we're going to have a problem."

And then, Friday afternoon, she called me into her office to sit down and have an actual conversation about what her bosses look for, how she measures it, and what she wants from me...all shit she should have done BEFORE she started stalking me like a rabid dog!

She was still racking her brain for reasons my "numbers" aren't as good as my coworkers', and I tried to explain that the numbers don't reflect all the work I do, especially when I follow her guidelines. I walked her through this three times, and she still didn't understand. But she offered to change my work hours, something I've been wanting to ask for but figured she'd refuse just because it was my idea.

I really, really tried to adjust my attitude over the weekend. I put work completely out of my mind until Sunday, when I returned to dwelling on the things that piss me off. For example:

• The bitch refuses to listen to or consider any input from me, and she probably never even looked at my resume long enough to see that I'm actually pretty good at developing more efficient ways of getting things done.
• The bitch swears that she knows what works and that no one else knows better than her, and she completely disregards the fact that what works for her doesn't necessarily work for everyone.
• The bitch behaves like she doesn't trust me or have any confidence in me, and she constantly implies that I'm slacking off or don't know what I'm doing, when in fact I'm at least as focused and conscientious as my coworkers...if not more so.
• The bitch seems to actually think nagging us constantly is an appropriate way to motivate us, when in fact she's just bullying us into to meeting a very narrow set of standards that don't actually have much at all to do with the quality of our work.

I eventually did some meditation/hypnosis with Ryan in hopes of taking a Serenity Prayer approach to the whole mess. And that was when I got to the core the matter. It's not that I don't think I'm good enough, or that I'm as self righteous and arrogant as I probably sound, or that I give a damn what she thinks of me.

It's simply that I'm angry, and frustrated, and I have good reasons to be.

However, I shouldn't be letting this anger bleed into every area of my life to the point where I'm glaring at other Wal-Mart shoppers, flipping people off in traffic, lying awake at night and feeling generally mad at the world. And I shouldn't ever hang too much hope on seeing things change for the better there--outside of my own attitude, of course.

I think I just need to acknowledge my anger, give it a place and then use it.

So I'm not sure if the attitude adjustment actually worked, but things were a little better today. I worked frantically and relentlessly, and I wrote down every damn thing I worked on so I could defend myself if the boss asked why I wasn't getting enough done. And I only referred to her as "that bitch" two or three times--at least, before I sat down and started blogging!

Part of the whole accepting my anger thing is what led to this horridly long blog post. I have been avoiding the blog, and therefore depriving myself of a great way to vent frustrations, because I'm afraid of being that girl who complains about her job all the time.

But I think I just need to be that girl in my blog so I can work through things and maybe even track my progress. Yeah, some day I'll go back and read it and say "Wow, I was one bitter, sarcastic bitch back then!" But it won't be the first time...

Should I be worried...

...about the fact that I've found myself behind this car twice in the last week?

Small Victories - I'll Take 'Em

This was one of those rainy Fall days...the kind with a constant cold drizzle that eventually seeps into your bones and makes the urge to stay in bed so strong that you end up having to go to work with unwashed hair and wrinkled slacks...and even then you can't make it on time unless you're willing to give up stopping for coffee.

I opted for the coffee stop this morning, and I don't regret it.

This afternoon our supervising attorney thanked me for following up on something and being so thorough, and she said I was a pleasure to work with. I had emailed both her and my boss with a question, and she had given me a direct and simple, helpful answer. She copied my boss when she sent this bit of praise, and it made me very happy as she is the boss's boss.

A bit later I emailed both of them again with a question about something the supervising attorney had written in one of our intakes. This time, my boss replied--only to me--with "these questions come to me."

Mind you, she didn't answer the question...nor did she even pretend to talk around it. She just flat out disregarded it. But she damn sure asserted her authority!

Also today, the supervising attorney (who is officially my hero) emailed us to say she'd called the guy who chewed me out yesterday (and who subsequently chewed out my boss) and told him our firm will no longer be assisting him, as he has been abusive to our staff members.

In all, it was a pretty good day in spite of the boss's antics. I do feel trouble brewing, though. Even though I'm thorough and a pleasure to work with, our numbers aren't good enough and the boss is trying to figure out what needs to change. I made a couple of suggestions, which she pretty much dismissed, saying "I know what works."

But she mainly attributed our less-than-excellent scores to "absences" with a pointed look at my coworker....my coworker who has three kids--one with a rare neurological disease and another who's three months old and spent the first week of her life in ICU--and who missed work Friday for two of the kids' doctor appointments.

Never mind that lately there's simply more work coming in...more than we can easily handle within a restricted number of hours. We can make it work, but my boss's instructions to start "showing her everything before I send it" won't help any.*

Anyway, the complement seems to have lit a spark in me, and I really feel like fighting the boss's nonsense. She'll win...but I'll be right and we'll all know it. And one day, maybe my coworker and I will be given the respect we work so hard for.

*Yeah, I know that's poor use of quotation marks. I just don't care.

The Adventures of a Lukewarm Blogger

I've been waiting to write my 100th post until I could think of something special to do, but that eventually became just one of the many things I was putting off. So I've decided to just get it over with and start working on the next 100 posts.

Effective this Friday I'm getting hired "permanently" at my job. Part of me thinks my boss is only doing this because she can't be bothered to keep approving my time card every week for the temp agency. I have, you see, had to remind her every single fucking Monday since the week she forgot to pay me, and that's usually after two other courtesy reminders on Friday!

Maybe it's the weather...the recent cooling-off and the unusual amount of rain for this time of year...maybe it's the chaotic work environment with a boss who openly avoids having to talk to us whenever she can get away with it and talks gibberish when she does bother to communicate...maybe it's the fact that I'm making just enough money to tread water but can't ever quite get my head above the surface and keep it there. Whatever it is, I'm more stressed out than ever, and I'm feeling pretty down about it.

Work today felt like what I imagine it's like to be buried alive. I started out in a hole, and every time I tried to climb out, someone threw another shovel full of dirt on me. And before I could dig my way out of that dirt, another load fell in on me. By the end of the day, somehow I had more stuff piled up than when I started, even though I'd been working nonstop all day. I hate that feeling.

Eh...it's just a gloomy day. And I'm coming down off a "customer service week" high, during which my boss had to pretend she appreciated us but ended up using all the "fun" activities as an excuse to avoid communicating with us. And I had a client chew me out today for something that was totally not my fault. I wasn't expecting that, so I had my guard down. Hell, I always have my guard down when it comes to being yelled at for things I can't control, because I just don't understand that mentality.

I absolutely hate people who think the only way to get what they want is by bullying others. And that is why customer service is NOT the field for me!

So there's a little slice of what my life's been like lately: I don't like my job, and I detest my boss. I'm bitter and cynical and pissed off, and recently I've had to edit myself because more and more I find I'm becoming that negative person in the office who makes everyone else feel hopeless. I usually catch it and try to come up with something positive in its place, but it's totally empty. I don't believe a damn word I'm saying.

I guess that's why, paragraph after paragraph, I keep telling myself pretty soon this post will take on a positive tone. And I just keep bitching. I'm an endless fountain of bitching.

Well, there are some things to be happy about...for example, I'm halfway through Season 1 of "Lost," and I'm enjoying the early episodes more than ever this time around. My goal is to watch all of the first five seasons before Season 6 starts in early 2010.

Lying around watching TV for hours on end and then more hours on end? It won't be easy, but I think I'm up for the challenge.

And, now that Post #100 is done, I can come back for #101 very soon to daydream, tell a funny story, or just bitch and moan some more...whatever the hell I feel like doing!

please pass the Valium

I've been thinking about my job a lot this weekend...some of the time intentionally, but most of the time not. And my thoughts keep circling back to the same two contradicting conclusions:

1. I cannot thrive in that environment. I need to work for someone who wants to see me develop, in a general career path or at the very least in the job I'm doing. I need a boss who will let me earn respect and trust, who will use my mistakes as opportunities to help me get better at my job, and who will make time to talk when I have important questions or concerns. These things aren't going to happen as long as I'm working for this woman.

2. I need to stick with this job for the benefits and the experience and the steady paycheck....for now. I can look for something better, but I can't quit until that something comes along. In other words, I'm sort of stuck. Just like I didn't want to be.

Time for a TV Guide check: nope, still not sorry I left. But that job set expectations for management and teamwork that I'm afraid no one will ever meet again. And that kinda frightens me.

Now that I'm in this for the long(er) term, I should start digging in and doing what comes naturally to me...organizing things, getting stuff done and generally kicking ass. I was getting there, but last week's setbacks completely zapped my motivation, and I need some sort of attitude adjustment. I think I need to remove my focus from criticizing my boss's management skills and concentrate on proving myself. Duh.

I don't have to bend over backwards or perform miracles; I just need to be myself and do it well. And quit letting this shit follow me home.

And keep looking for better opportunities...


p.s. That woman didn't approve my time card Friday afternoon, as she insisted she'd be doing from now on. She didn't even stick to her plan for one week. So I have to remind her to do it in the morning, when she supposedly won't have time.

...and still chaos reigns

When my boss fired the Crazy Bitch, I decided to wipe the slate clean and give the whole place a fresh start. And it went really well for a while...but I think we all knew it wouldn't last forever.

Because my boss is still bat shit crazy.

Things started to deteriorate last week when she forgot to approve my time card. She wasn't nearly apologetic enough, and then she decided to "crack down" on us temps as if it was our fault. She's moved up our deadline for submitting time cards, because if she doesn't do them on Fridays she just won't have time to go back and do them Monday mornings. Reasonable request, but shitty timing and lousy delivery.

And then this week she just went and lost her mind. Things have been great with my coworkers and me, and she even noticed we look happier and commended us for great teamwork. But then she started back up with the passive-aggressive emails, sending out commands but not wanting to answer follow-up questions or discuss things any further.

Yesterday, out of the blue, she decided my coworker and I should switch responsibilities...even though we've worked out a great system and are super comfortable with our roles. I tried to find out if I'd made some sort of mistake, but she insisted I was doing fine and she just wanted to put us back in "familiar territory" for a while. We tried to explain that it wasn't familiar or comfortable and that we were much happier the way things were. I expressed again that I'd be happy to revisit my notes and correct anything I might be doing wrong, but she wouldn't budge.

All this happened in the midst of the busiest day EVER...absurdly busy. Of course, we weren't as efficient as we could have been if she'd just left us alone, and the work was piling up three times faster than we could get it done.

Then she decided we needed to start doing certain tasks differently. This involved new procedures we weren't quite sure about, so I asked her to spend a few minutes with us to make sure we knew how to properly do things the way she wanted.

Her response was an email that said she's too busy to come over and teach us anything new, and that we're just going to have to keep on doing what we know until she has some time to work with us. She pointed out that she's already told both of us this. In other words, she just wants to make uninformed and poorly thought-out decisions, but she doesn't want us to bother her about the details.

This shit went on for two days before I learned the real reason for the upheaval. It was all because I asked her a fucking question. She felt I should know better by now and told my coworker so, but she didn't discuss anything with me. Thankfully, my coworker set her straight and pointed out that she didn't know the answer either, which was why I had to ask the boss in the first place.

In the end, she spent an hour going over new procedures with my coworker (not me) and then turned her loose with three pages of incoherent notes. She came by later to show me how to do something the new way, but she didn't teach me one damn thing I didn't already know!

She finally relented and gave us back our old roles, but with her new poorly-thought out procedures, things take twice as long as before and I'm more confused than ever because she just doesn't have the time or the patience to work with me.

So my boss apparently still thinks I'm an idiot, even after all my efforts to prove otherwise in light of Crazy Bitch's lies. And apparently when I make mistakes, there's no correcting and learning from them--she just stops talking to me and takes away responsibilities and generally acts like she's quit taking her Ritalin.

If I were reading this and I didn't know me, I'd surely think the problem was with the author. I'd think I had a bad attitude and blamed everyone else for my own problems. But I swear to you, it's NOT ME. That woman is impossible.

Don't even get me started on how she assumed I'd love to keep working there as a permanent employee without her even going through the formality of offering me a job...or how she just never bothered to answer my email asking her what the starting pay would be when I was no longer a temp. And again, who fucking forgets to pay her employees and then somehow acts like it's their fault instead of apologizing profusely?

I'm not saying the Crazy Bitch wasn't the problem before...just that apparently she wasn't the only problem.

p.s. I miss you more than ever, Jefe.

My Luck (if that's what you call it)

I think this week might make history as one of the three most traumatic weeks of my life.

Yesterday (my weekly pay day), my boss nonchalantly informed me in an email that she forgot to approve my time card and I wasn't going to get paid. Fortunately, the temp agency fronted a percentage of my pay in advance, so I got something today.

However, the advance was a normal paper check, and my check is normally direct deposited. So I spent my lunch hour driving across town to the credit union to try and head off the charges that were already coming in to my empty bank account.

I was a little late getting back, and I guess that's why I rear-ended someone a few blocks away from the office. It was a horrible, smarmy couple and their son from Michigan. They were driving a rental car, but by the way the son reacted, you'd think it was a brand new car he'd just bought with his life savings. Asshole.

They insisted on calling the police, so I waited on the sidewalk, trying not to cry while my Arby's sandwich got lukewarm and my Hershey bar melted in its wrapper. At one point my temper almost got away from me, and I found myself on the verge of telling that fucking kid what an inconsiderate, hateful little prick I thought he was. Fortunately I didn't, and I think Karma might have rewarded me.

The policeman was very nice and even apologized when he gave me a ticket. Then he helped me jump start my car, which had gone dead just sitting with the hazard lights on. While his partner connected the jumper cables, I finally got up the nerve to drop my dad's name. In a surprising turn of luck, the police officer called up my dad and then took my ticket away apologetically. What a nice fella!

That saved me the trouble of having to beg for mercy from one of the attorneys at work, which was convenient because the afternoon was chaotic as all hell. The rest of the day flew by, and then I came home and crawled right into bed. I woke up a couple of hours later with a yucky headache.

Did I mention I've been sick for nearly a week with some gross bug that's going around? Whenever I laugh, my lungs actually rattle. Were it not for the similar rattles heard around the office, I'd have to wonder if I'd contracted some sort of grave illness.

Anyway, my insurance premium will probably go up, but I didn't get a ticket and my car didn't get enough damage to speak of. Hopefully I can get through the rest of this week without having a nervous breakdown.

Now, I'm sure at least one of you three readers is wondering about the other two most traumatic weeks of my life. This one falls in at number three, and second place would go to the week back in college when I broke my pinky toe.

Actually, it started when I was bitten on the neck by a brown recluse (also known as a fiddleback) spider. I went to bed with an itchy neck and woke the next morning with a sore whelp as big in diameter as a baseball.

I don't know if it was the spider bite, the Dial body wash my doctor recommended, or the stress of house-sitting with an itchy, highly annoying dog that week...but something caused me to break out in hives. Terrible, terrible hives.

After three doctor visits and a round of steroids, I did what I should have done first and took some benadryl. Then I went to my closet to put on my shoes and go feed that damn dog one last time. That was when, dopey from the medicine, I ran into the door frame of the closet and broke my pinky toe.

You know, I never even noticed that little toe until I broke it. Apparently it's just as important as the other toes for walking, and there's really no good way to put a splint on the pudgy little thing.

But that was nothing compared to the week after my darling cat Sunshine had emergency butt surgery...and then another butt surgery to fix the previous one. It wasn't just that I had to clean her butt stitches morning and night...it was the way she screamed at me every time, like I was trying to kill her...and the way she started foaming at the mouth every time I tried to give her the antibiotics, and the way the slobber collected inside that stupid e-collar...

I hated everyone that week, passionately and without exception.

When the weekend came, I had to board Sunshine at the vet for a few days, as I was going home for Christmas and she still needed medication twice a day. When they took her back to the treatment room and I could hear her screaming all the way up front (as per the usual), for once I didn't cringe and cover my ears.

No, I leaned back in my chair and laughed, thinking "she's their problem now."

And then I got the hell out of town...which sounds like a pretty good idea now, actually. I haven't seen Ryan in nearly two weeks, and after the week I've had, nothing can cheer me up like heading to OKC for a quiet weekend with my awesome boyfriend and his little orange tabbies.

Not Your Year

Scattered shadows on a wall, you watch the long light fall
Some impressions stay and some will fade
Tattered shoes outside your door, clothes all on the floor
Your life feels like the morning after all year long.

Every day it starts again
You cannot say if you’re happy
You keep trying to be
Try harder, maybe this is not your year.

Movies, TV screens reflect just what you expected
There’s a world of shiny people somewhere else
Out there following their bliss
living easy, getting kissed
while you wonder what else you’re doing wrong

Breathe through it, write a list of desires
Make a toast, make a wish, slash some tires
Paint a heart repeating, beating “don’t give up, don’t give up, don’t give up.”

©2006 Deb Talan & Steve Tannen (ASCAP/BMI). All rights reserved

It's my pretty paper now, bitch.

This week I'm still getting settled into my new cubicle, and into a much more peaceful work environment. My recently returned coworker has been refreshingly direct with anyone previously hoodwinked by the Crazy Bitch, explaining that the Crazy Bitch had to go, as she was a cancer in the office. She also makes a point to clarify I'm doing just fine and that she has no problem with me, professionally or personally.

Friday morning I got my second hang-up call, almost certainly from the Crazy Bitch. I'm told when she finally got in touch with my coworker Thursday night, she ranted for quite a while and even made some threats against our boss.

"...and that bitch Katy was at my desk within fifteen minutes after I left!"

My co-worker's reply will ring in my memory for a long time to come:

"It's Katy's desk now."

We received emails warning about "a disgruntled former employee" calling people within the firm trying to obtain proprietary information, and some passwords were changed. I looked over my shoulder a bit last week, but this week memories of the legendary bitchiness are already starting to fade.

Crazy Bitch left behind a few personal effects, including some cutesy polka-dot paper, some fancy paisley paperclips and a box of plain envelopes. I haven't decided what to do with these items...I hear she complained about wanting them back, but she certainly won't be allowed to set foot in the building to retrieve them. I'll probably just throw them away--I don't want any of her crap--but I amused myself today thinking how mad she'd be if she ever saw me using them.

Yeah, I'm vindictive. I'm going to shake off the nastiness leave it behind soon, I promise. But at the moment I'm still riding the high from last week's victory.

Prozac Girl wins!

When I got to work this rainy, gloomy morning, the Crazy Bitch was sitting at her desk--totally silent for once--with a box of her things beside her. As I walked by, she called my name and asked if I knew what was going on and then informed me HR was on the way over to talk with her.

I told her I knew nothing, and then I went to my desk to wait for the drama to unfold. But things remained eerily quiet. I don't know how they did it, but somehow they got her out of there without any kind of disruption in our work area, and shortly thereafter I moved into her cubicle.

(Any suggestions on how to banish cubicle-demons?)

I later learned that more than one of my coworkers had gotten fed up and complained about her. Also, one of them confirmed my suspicions that the Crazy Bitch has been bad-mouthing me all this time, telling people I'm terrible at my job and implying that all I do is make more work for her. I think she's been telling my boss the same thing, but fortunately that's all cleared up now.

I hereby officially retract anything bad I said about my boss, my coworkers and the general "they." I'm starting to see just how much turmoil and confusion the Crazy Bitch was causing, and I think it was doing even more damage than I realized. Our boss was frustrated and certainly had her hands full trying to keep the Crazy Bitch in line and make sense of the lies she was telling. And I think somehow the Bitch had the rest of us thinking maybe each of us was alone in despising her, which affected our relationships with each other--not to mention with our boss.

Anyway, my boss apologized for letting this go on so long and said she's amazed I've done as well as I have. Also, as soon as I've put in the hours required by the temp agency, she's going to hire me permanently.

Hello, health benefits!!!

I feel like I've woken up in the twighlight zone, or maybe that's where I've been all along and now I'm back.

I started this work week back in the file room, where I wrangled thousands of dusty files and tried to fight back the feeling that somehow I'd lost a major battle. I almost quit that day; I actually tried to call my person at the temp agency, but she was out for the day.

Compounding my frustration was the fact that the Crazy Bitch was in a worse mood than ever and was was not speaking to me---or maybe I wasn't speaking to her. Either way, the battle line was drawn. Her nasty, furtive glares didn't bother me nearly as much as the loud, pointed comments to others about how terrible things were while our coworker was on maternity leave. I just kept my head down, and in some ways the file room felt like a safe haven. But I missed my job.

Yesterday I emerged from the file room to help with document processing, which was even worse than filing but allowed me to work at my (new and very crappy) desk. That's what I was doing when one of my coworkers got fed up with the Crazy Bitch and called her on how hateful she was. It was an awesome moment, but I didn't realize at the time it was also a major turning point.

Since then, my boss has suddenly learned how awful this girl is to everyone else and has begun telling me how glad she is that I stuck around as long as I did. "We're not like that," she declared to me passionately, adding that we work together as a team, and that kind of bullying is not going to be tolerated.

I was a little surprised to learn she wasn't aware of the above-mentioned bullying before---I guess I thought any number of other people had cause to bring this to her attention long before I did. But she said she thought it was just a problem between her and the Crazy Bitch and talked about how she'd found herself becoming the kind of boss she doesn't want to be. I think I can understand where she's coming from, because people as manipulative and hateful as the Crazy Bitch can usually convince everyone else they're the crazy ones.

I certainly know the type!

Anyway, long story short: I'm staying on with the firm after this week. I think my boss totally loves me, and she's assured me things will be much better going forward. What this means specifically I can't quite say, but I think the writing is on the wall.

(I wonder if I can work in one more cliche before I finish this post...)

Crazy Bitch called out sick today, and I got to do my old work again. It was nice and peaceful, but I felt like a dog that's been kicked around so long it doesn't know how to do anything but flinch.

Is this what it feels like to be vindicated? I feel more disoriented than relieved or triumphant, but we'll see what the rest of the week brings and how I feel when it's over.

"I've got enough f-bombs for all y'all."

That's what I declared in the car today when my acute minor road rage started to flare up, and then I laughed.

But in all seriousness, I may need to take that mentality to work with me tomorrow.

One more week left on the temp job. The girl I'm filling in for comes back tomorrow, so I'll be doing different work. I don't know what it'll be, and in fact when I get in tomorrow I won't even have a desk or a computer. It should be a fun time.

I was settling in for a lazy nap this afternoon, thinking about how nice it feels to be at home and not busy--and wondering if I'll get to do more napping after this temp job ends--when my phone rang. It was the girl from work that I've been filling in for. Apparently my worst enemy the Crazy Bitch had called to give her a heads up about something I mentioned (completely innocently) to the boss last week. I wasn't trying to get anyone in trouble, just explaining why I did something the way I did.

My boss's ears perked up over something I said, and apparently she thought she smelled a conspiracy. So I went to her office with the piece of paper I'd mentioned and explained it was just a note this girl had made for herself and I was using it at my own discretion. Well, the Crazy Bitch I work with (who only heard a small portion of that discussion) called this other girl to warn her about it, and this girl in turn called me to ask for an explanation. On a fucking Sunday afternoon.

So I explained I'd referenced the note but never claimed she'd told me to use it or tried to blame her for my mistake. She seemed satisfied with my explanation and was very reasonable, but that put a big dent in my relaxing evening. I was not expecting the work bullshit to creep up on me on a Sunday afternoon, and my guard was down.

So I wasn't ready when this girl said "So I hear things haven't been going too well with you and [Crazy Bitch]." I was so caught off guard that I didn't even realize at first who'd most likely told her that (Crazy Bitch herself, obviously), and I said a few candid things that'll probably now be repeated to the Crazy Bitch.

Great. That's just great. I thought I was re-entering the work force, and somehow I ended up in a nightmarish version of high school instead.

It's only one more week, and I know I should detach myself from the whole situation. But even at my wise old age, I'm still surprised and hurt when people talk about me behind my back--especially if they're demonizing me unfairly. If I'm being a demon, fine...I'll be a demon and then I'll apologize for it. But if I'm putting in a genuine effort to do excellent work and I'm treating people with basic respect, I can't stand having evil motives attributed to me.

So this is basically what I've been up to lately: having constant inner dialogues that go in spiraling circles, and trying not to become that which surrounds me. And taking lots of Advil.

I don't know what else to say about this; I'm still in the stage of being pissed off and sickened by how ridiculous these people are! I guess I should let it all settle and then maybe try to write something rational later about how I don't answer to these people and they don't sign my paycheck and it doesn't matter what they think of me because I'll be out of there in a week anyway.

But it does matter, whether I like it or not. It hurts my feelings.

God, I hope I was never that bad.

Next week will be my last week on the current temp job, and I have to admit I won't be entirely sorry when it's over. It'll certainly be the end of an era...or something.

Like most change, it's bittersweet.

On one hand, I really love this job. The legal stuff is interesting, and we're helping people. Granted, I'm not doing a lot myself...just passing on information that 90% of them are glad to receive. They are so grateful, and so gracious, and so kind. My reward is hearing the relief, gratitude and hope in a someone's voice when I say "I have someone who may be able to help you."

Plus, I get to talk to people from all over Oklahoma--both attorneys and civilians. I love the genuine friendliness that feels like home, and I'm delighted by the varying dialects. I love when an attorney takes time to tell me about his little corner of the world, how to pronounce the name of some little town I've never heard of, and what of note (if anything) goes on there. Truth be told, I'm enchanted.

But then there's the work environment...a loony fucking annoying co-worker and management that SUCKS like I didn't think possible. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but I have been repeatedly horrified by some of the things I've learned too late and have been doing wrong all along. And I'm not just talking about minor procedural details (although those are also a problem); I'm talking major things too.

Of course, the boss never takes any responsibility. She just blames my coworkers, who I have to admit have been pretty lousy about following rules and sharing information with me. To an extent she's right to blame them, but at the end of the day they're just a product of her lousy management.

I've been working there about two months, and if I were to add up all the time she's spent talking to me about my job (including the interview!) it probably wouldn't amount to 30 minutes. Which wouldn't be so bad if she had someone competent to train me and answer my questions. Alas, no. The majority of her communication with us consists of a couple of gruff sentences (commands, corrections, etc.) in the subject field of an email. Sometimes, if she's feeling especially generous, she'll include some passive-aggressive comments in the body of the email about how she knows she's told us this before and it better not happen again.

I don't care if it's directed at me or not...it's disheartening and frustrating. There's never any useful follow up or further explanation of how to do things correctly. The woman is straight up bat shit crazy.

Not everyone there is an ogre, of course. There are some super nice people outside my group that I'd love to know better, and I am sorry I'll miss out on working with them more. But I'm not sure putting up with the craziness would be worth it.

I'm ready for it to be over so I can move on.

A Weekend by the Lake

Some pics from a weekend at Grand Lake with Ryan and his mom. Ryan took all of these but the last one...

very clever branding

Not only do they sell their catnip in a "Fat Jar," but they also have a kickass youtube ad:

Is It Me?

I've been spending a lot of time lately trying to figure out what's going on with me and why I find it so hard to adjust to new jobs. Consider my history since leaving my supervisor position at TV Guide and moving back to Oklahoma:

1. Began volunteering sporadically with a local animal rescue group, but eventually quit because it wasn't like Kitty Cottage and I couldn't stand the board member I had to work with.

2. After interviewing with two of Tulsa's largest rescue groups, accepted a job at a veterinary clinic in Oklahoma City, which I quit after three weeks because I couldn't stand the people I worked with and their shitty notion of teamwork (nor could I bear the knowledge that the freezer in back held dead animals waiting to be cremated).

3. Got a great temp job I'd really love to stick with, but some days I feel I might lose my mind because I can't stand the girl I work with.

Now, I consider myself to be an incredibly diplomatic and patient person, but there's no denying the pattern here. And the fact that I openly admit to liking animals much more than I like people doesn't help my case.

In my defense, it's perfectly normal to have some trouble adjusting to new jobs after working in the same place for nine years.

But I'm not quite ready to claim this as solely my problem. I'm still clinging to the notion that I've found myself in two bizarrely fucked up work environments where functioning normally is nearly impossible.

As much as I'd like elaborate on this theory, I'm finding it difficult to write about my experiences. The fiasco with the veterinary job was so emotionally trying that I actually felt heart broken...devastated, even. It's still painful to think about it. And the current job situation is so baffling that I honestly can't tell from one day to the next if I'm in a hostile work environment or just sitting next to one crazy bitch.

So I'll leave it at this for now: I don't know what my problem is, but it's quite possible everyone else is at least as crazy as I am.

Prozac Girl has learned the Raving Psycho Bitch hates cats.

It's on now, bitch. It is SO on.

Hell Yeah

I can't think of a better way than this to spend a Friday night home alone:

Prozac Girl and the Raving Psycho Bitch

If you were hoping I'd be writing about my dueling personalities, I'm sorry to disappoint you...

But this is more of a "Tortoise and the Hare" kind of story.

The main character is Prozac Girl---our tortoise, if you will. Prozac Girl likes to work, and she takes her new job very seriously. In the course of her training, she wrote step-by-step instructions for each of her tasks, had them checked for accuracy and placed them neatly in a report folder that is already bent and scuffed from being opened and closed so many times. She still doesn't quite know what she's doing half the time, but she does the other half quite well.

Prozac Girl works quietly in her cubicle all day, occasionally making her presence known with a giggle, or with a conscientious question about her work. She doesn't socialize with her coworkers unless they seek her out for conversation (in which case they find her to be surprisingly warm), and she doesn't waste company time with personal calls because she hates talking on the phone and wants to get her work done.

She's slow, but she's thorough and accurate.

One cubicle over, the Raving Psycho Bitch never shuts up. She shares personal information with anyone who'll listen, confiding even to the floors, the walls, and the air as if to her closest friend. It seems Psycho Bitch thinks she'll cease to exist if she ever stops talking and demanding attention.

Prozac Girl wishes Psycho Bitch would cease to exist.

When the boss asks Psycho Bitch to do something she doesn't want to do, she either refuses to do it or complains loudly until the task is completed. While Psycho Bitch complains, or smokes, or tries to dump her work on someone else, or goes on a tirade against the boss, Prozac Girl continues working, slowly but steadily, using that time to keep up with her growing work queue.

Psycho Bitch clearly feels threatened by Prozac Girl and tries to undermine her with not-so-subtle tactics. She snatches up Prozac Girl's easy assignments between smoke breaks, trying to build up her performances scores the way the Chinese build up the protein content in pet food with melamine. Every evening, Psycho Bitch announces to everyone how many referrals she's completed that day. And, if she feels the number is too low, she qualifies it with a recap of the horribly difficult tasks she was forced to undertake in addition to her other grueling work.

The first time Prozac Girl completed more referrals in a day than Psycho Bitch, the accomplishment did not go unnoticed. "Well, you don't have to do all the things I have to do," Psycho Bitch whined. Prozac Girl smiled to herself, refraining from congratulating Psycho Bitch on all her smoke breaks, temper tantrums and episodes of personal drama, taking pleasure in her secret sarcasm.

When she overhears Psycho Bitch indirectly blaming her for things she herself did wrong, Prozac Girl fumes silently in her cubicle. Sometimes she confronts Psycho Bitch, innocently asking "Did I mess something up?" Psycho Bitch never gives her a direct answer, but Prozac Girl doesn't worry...she's confident Psycho Bitch isn't fooling anyone.

Prozac Girl is particularly disturbed by Psycho Bitch's use of the word "literally." For example, Psycho Bitch once declared "My back is literally killing me."

Oh, how Prozac Girl wished it were true!

When things become unbearable, Prozac Girl sends her boyfriend text messages and voice mails packed with even more profanity than usual. Cussing makes Prozac Girl happy, and if she says "fuck" enough times, her anger turns into a bittersweet, triumphant amusement that motivates her to work even harder.

Prozac Girl is confident she'll win out in the end. The Psycho Bitch, like the hare, is overly confident in her worth and fails to see how Prozac Girl is catching up with her. She may be a just lowly temp now, but they'll be glad to have her when the time comes to fire that Crazy Raving Psycho Bitch. And if they never have the sense to fire her, Prozac Girl reminds herself, "I don't want to work for those goddamn idiots anyway."

Road Rage: A True Story

I had a road rage incident today with a little prick in a big truck, and I'm still laughing about it.

I was following Ryan to a Jiffy Lube in Oklahoma City when it happened. Ryan changed lanes, and before I could fall in behind him, the jerk in the pickup came speeding up beside me. I knew if I got behind him I wouldn't be able to see Ryan's car anymore, so I sped up and put on my turn signal as a way of asking him to back off and let me in.

Instead, he sped up just as I moved over in front of him, and I had to swerve back over to keep from getting hit. Having made his point, the jackass backed off and I continued with my lane change, using a hand signal to indicate I wasn't pleased with his manners.

He went around me on the right, chucking a piece of ice as he passed me, and then got in front of Ryan before stopping at a red light. Ryan and I were about to turn left, so I passed him again after moving to the left turn lane. And I was really mad...so I didn't just flip him off.

I rolled down the window, honked my horn, stuck my arm out the window and waved my middle finger high.

My triumphant moment was cut short when I realized the green arrow was gone and I had to stop while the jerk got a green light. So much for having the last laugh; he was going to pass me one more time. I braced myself, knowing he had a drink and wasn't afraid to use it.

I didn't care...flipping him off felt good, and I was ready to pay the price for it. Besides, I knew my windshield would get washed when I got my oil changed.

As he passed, a few drops of clear liquid splattered lightly over my windshield, and it was so gloriously anticlimactic that I laughed out loud!

As it turned out, the Jiffy Lube was closed. I had to get my oil changed elsewhere, and they neither cleaned my windshield nor filled my empty wiper fluid tank. So when I picked up my car, it was still covered in syrupy splatters.

But they rotated my tires for free, so it all worked out. I refilled my own washer fluid and got a car wash. Problem solved.

Okay look, guys: I know this is a lame story, but my life lacks adventure these days, and that was the most excitement I've had all summer. Just humor me, okay?

Mighty Mites

What an odd little story! I'm itching all over now, but I do love Oklahoma.


Mighty mites cause problems

Associated Press - July 1, 2009 8:45 PM ET

DRUMMOND, Okla. (AP) - When the Garfield County Sheriff's office started receiving calls about millions of ants crossing the intersection of Oklahoma 132 and a county road, deputy Troy Bush thought it was joke.

Bush says when he arrived on Monday, there were so many insects that it appeared as if the ground were moving and the tiny critters had created a slick, hazardous area on the pavement stretching a quarter-mile long.

Eventually authorities learned the bugs weren't ants, but were mites.

Apparently the mites were crossing the road that day after having dinner in a field of canola plants that had just been harvested. Bush says the slick spot was created by the mites feasting on the plants, which are used to produce canola oil.

Oklahoma Department of Transportation crews lightly sanded the slick portion of the road.

Information from: Enid News & Eagle, http://www.enidnews.com

Alissa

This is a recent picture of my favorite shelter cat, Alissa. She still resides at Kitty Cottage in East Norriton, PA and is allowed to live in the front office because she despises other cats. Although she's heavily medicated and generally happy being an office cat, her notorious feistiness will still come out if she's properly provoked.

She is curious and lovable and funny-looking and soft like a bunny rabbit. Her ears are on the side of her head rather than the top, giving her the appearance of always being up to no good. She enjoys playing fetch, sleeping in the sun and having her forehead rubbed.

I love her.

Stand Still, Look Pretty

Day Three, and the temp job is going well. I'm working in a law office, processing referrals and placing people all over Oklahoma with lawyers to meet their needs. It's fairly simple and straightforward, but complex enough to require some skill and decision-making ability. And I'm helping people, which is nice.

I just can't get over the fact that this low-key job pays so much better than the high-stress nightmare I just came from!

Tonight as I was running errands, I heard a song that took me right back to my depressed days in Pennsylvania.

Sometimes I find myself shaking in the middle of the night

And then it hits me and I can't even believe this is my life

It was nice to look back on those days without feeling the suffocating quiet despair that dominated my life then. Sometimes I truly felt like I was living someone else's life. The only time I felt like my genuine self was when I came back to Oklahoma for visits and when I was at Kitty Cottage; the rest of the time, the real me was buried in work, beer, cat hair and paralyzing depression.

My life is certainly not perfect now (and the cat hair remains), but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm ME again, and I'm home. And if I ever leave home again, I'll be taking along the real me--not some heavy load of other people's expectations.

Working again...again.

I really lucked out this week!

Tuesday I notified a temp agency I was available for work again. They called back two hours later with a job lead, and Wednesday afternoon I was called in for an interview. The following is a summary of how it went:

Office Manager: Hi, are you Katy?
Me: Yes, it's nice to meet you.
OM: Do you have a pulse?
Me: I think so.
OM: Can you start tomorrow?
Me: Sure!

Okay, that's not how it went word for word, but that's about how long it took. And it's a decent job, with a respectable starting pay. It's only for six weeks, but I'm half hoping I might eventually be able to angle for a permanent job in their Oklahoma City office after I get a feel for the place.

So I started today, and I've already learned a lot about who not to trust and how to cover my ass. This was explained to me in a straightforward, relevant and professional context, which I really appreciated.

I'm not looking to get strung up and left to the vultures like I did in the last job!

Yesh

I Love The Sopranos

Tony: You threw food at Vito. That's got to be resolved.

Christopher: He was fucking laughing, which was wrong!

Deadbeats have Mondays, too.

Sadness finds its way onto me

On any given day

And I just end up feeling guilty

I don't know how many times I've told you

I don't know how I ended up this way

It's as if sometimes I have just halted

I stop dead in my tracks

Life, it just seems to cover me

It's in these moments that I feel trapped

I'm trying, but lately I've had a hard time fighting off the urge to sleep the day away. Things were so much better this weekend. With Ryan here, I had places to go, people to see and things to do. Now I'm back to figuring out what the hell's next.

I have some ideas in the works, in addition to searching for a traditional job. I could probably get some pet-sitting gigs if I worked at it, and I'm looking for a cheap wholesale provider for eBay sales--maybe focusing on pet products. I'm even considering talking to someone about selling Pampered Chef stuff, if they'd let me sell on eBay. And I'm looking into taking some classes, maybe communications and PR stuff, or web design and layout, or...I don't know.

Too many ideas, not enough plans.

But on deck first is eBay...I have several things that should sell, and I'm going to get them listed today.

(Speaking of eBay, at the bottom of this blog page I have a scrolling gallery that shows everything I have available. It doesn't link up to the listings like it's supposed to, but you can access my Auctiva page where it says "Click here to browse all my EBay items, " and from there you can get to the individual listings. I'm just sayin'.)

I haven't been returning phone calls or emails as a general rule lately, just because I'm still in a funk. I'll get out of it eventually, though. One step at a time...

A paycheck would certainly help!

ten things I hated about my last job

1. Limping home after standing on my feet all day.

2. Constantly stepping on my baggy scrubs.

3. Getting to hold tiny kittens and puppies but having to give them back instead of putting them in my pocket and taking them home.

4. Seeing sedated animals laid out on the table with their tongues hanging out.

5. Cheap people looking for cheap alternatives to proper pet care.

6. Adopt-a-dog Saturdays...try making follow up calls with several cages full of barking shelter dogs set up in the main aisle, in the direct path of all the pets visiting the vet or the groomer.

7. "Customer needs assistance with a rat, please. Customer needs assistance with a rat."

8. Finding myself reduced from a confident, capable person to a terrified moron.

9. Passive-aggressive pet nurses.

10. PetSmart customers: ("I'm sorry, but I don't know where the Flies Off spray is. No, seriously. Don’t look at me that way. I don’t work for PetSmart!")

Back to job hunting...

I found this Craigslist post delightful until I began to feel mocked, somehow:

Poet Dreamer Needed ASAP (Shawnee)

One Poet Dreamer, must be willing to work flexible hours, 3rd shifts, OT, and be able to lift 50 pounds.... of dreams!

My Story

Tell a lie sometimes

Tell the truth when it suits you

And when you've lost your way

Tell a story

Tell your story

Tell it, tell it

Tell your story

To anyone who'll listen

Tell your story

Don't stop talking

Just tell your story walking

I'm going to sit here with my laptop and write until I have finished a blog post, if it kills me. Most likely it won't kill me, and then I can put some things behind me and move on.

So three weeks into the new job, I had to admit I was miserable and it wasn't going to get better. Last Friday night I came home around 8:30 and cried my eyes out, and it was a huge relief when, with Ryan's support, I decided not to go back.

Simply put, I didn't feel I was getting the training or support I needed to do my job well. I wasn't screwing things up, but the only time I seemed to get feedback was when I did make mistakes. I was assigned a bunch of online courses, and they were very helpful. But I didn't have enough time to work on them because I was so busy working.

I know these all sound like the typical challenges of a new job, but there was also some sort of passive-aggressive undercurrent with the staff members that really baffled me. It came to the surface occasionally, as early as my first couple of days, and it really put me off. I had a hard time seeing myself being part of a team that lacked a basic sense of mutual respect. If they were that way toward each other, what reason did I have to expect anything different for myself?

I don't feel like I'm explaining everything adequately. I know my reasons for leaving are valid, and my friends and family have been nothing but supportive and encouraging.

But what I don't understand is why I still feel so rotten. Being with Ryan helped a lot, but since I left his place on Sunday, I've been in a terrible funk. Why? What have I lost but a few weeks?

Even the kitties can't quite console me.

So telling the story in my blog is the first step, a way to get a foothold on a new path. If I can write it down, maybe I can let it go.

There. I did it!

Now, to change pace...I've been watching The Holiday in the background as I've been writing this. I'm not a chick flick kind of girl, but I find this movie enchanting! It's a great, light-hearted way to contemplate where you are in life and where you're going. I watched it with Jen a couple of years ago, and she said Kate Winslett's character reminded her of me. I am a big fan of Jack Black, who played her romantic interest, and I adore his character in the movie--and besides, Kate Winslett is gorgeous--so I rather liked the comparison.

"See?" she said as the movie ended. "You just need to find your Jack Black."

And I think I have! God knows Ryan is silly enough to fit the bill. I think sometimes he worries that he goes too far, but I adore his antics. I love that he sees the humor in life, and that he can be just as serious and caring as he is silly.

I really don't know what I'd do without him. This latest debacle with my job situation has really knocked me on my ass, as far as self-esteem is concerned, and I find myself wondering if I really deserve him. By admitting how depressed I feel, am I dragging him down? By not getting and keeping a damn job, am I holding him back from all the fun things he'd like for us to do together that we can't afford?

But why dream up problems where there aren't any? He loves me, and he's on my side. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.

Now, it's time to get up and follow the advice Kate Winslett was given in the movie:

It's time to be the leading lady in my own life.

(click image to play song)

My new favorite commercial

...and they drove off into the butt crack of dawn.

Ah, where to start? I've had such an eventful couple of weeks that I'm not sure I can hit all the highlights. But I'll give it a go...

First, my sister's wedding...it's over!

It went quite well, actually, but it took a lot out of everyone. It was fun meeting the fiance's family, especially the grandma from Germany who spoke minimal English. They are a lively bunch, the kind that's both interesting and exhausting at the same time. The fiance's dad was a little much--quite the flirt and pretty shameless about it. I'm not used to that anymore, but fortunately he didn't have his heart set on me or any other particular girl. Rather, he preferred to spread his attention among all of us. The mom, his ex-wife, was a blast...even though she left her little dog at our house three days in a row, traumatizing the hell out of my children.

Pippy made the unfortunate mistake of trying to escape from my room once and found himself face to face with said strange dog. He was so freaked out that he slammed his head on the door frame trying to get back in, and that's what I mean by trauma!

But not all the trauma was caused by outsiders, as Sunshine would be quick to point out. And she should know, being the recent target of one of George's spraying fits--almost literally.

Apparently pissed off (pun not intended) by my constant scolding for his stalking behavior, my precious little George pissed all over my file boxes the other night as I was sitting at my computer. Sunshine was in her little basket under my desk, having given up on enjoying her share of the catnip. I'd tried to give her a private stash, and--though there was plenty of it elsewhere--George had promptly gone after it, only to be chased away by yours truly.

Next thing I knew, George was standing directly under my chair, and I heard a strange noise and felt a slight breeze. He's always sounded more like a horse than a cat when he pees, and that's probably why his mess splattered all over poor Sunshine.

After that I had no choice but to move Sunshine to the one remaining free bedroom, where she cried incessantly whenever she knew I was in the house. She was so loud that one evening the neighbor across the street called to ask if we'd accidentally left a cat outside. Which only happened because I had the window open trying to air out the smell of George's piss, which he had sprayed all over a stack of boxes upon sneaking into Sunshine's new room.

That's also how I came to find myself picking up a bunch of very old, extremely dusty books the next day, one at a time, and sniffing them individuallly. You see, the books were in the box George peed on, and I needed to find out if any smelled like piss so I could remove them and their offending odor. Fun stuff.

I know I'm jumping around, but that's what it's been like around here lately.

So back to the wedding stuff...the ceremony was nice, the dresses were beautiful, my sister was calm and well-behaved, and my little nephew Charlie was the cutest little ring bearer EVER. I saw very little of the reception and barely had time to sneak some cake between duties, but I did have plenty of opportunity to notice that Ryan and both of my nephews looked dashing in their suits!

The next day, I was totally beat. I skipped out on lunch with the new in-laws so I could gather my stuff and get ready to head back to Ryan's and work the next morning. The new brother-in-law gave me a hard time about not spending time with my sister, and that didn't sit well with me. Who was he to make me feel guilty over someone who's never made it a priority to spend time with me???

Besides, everything is not all about her. She may be graduating and getting married and, supposedly, conquering the world, but I have a new job and I happen to think it's pretty important.

I cried when I said goodbye to my kitties that day; I felt so bad about their being shut up in my room all the time, about Pippy hitting his head, about George's deviant behavior, and about Sunshine screaming her lungs out down the hall. Pippy noticed my voice was different and gave me an especially inquisitive look, endearing himself to me more than ever and causing the tears to fall even harder.

After I got to Ryan's house I had another good cry on his shoulder, and that was when I realized it wasn't about the cats. It was about my sister, about her leaving for Miami and not appreciating her family or telling me thanks for my help with the wedding. It was about how how the rift between us has grown when it could have so easily gone the other way.

I kept remembering her stupid email after our big fight, and how she wrote "I wish you could be more like [insert name of annoying fellow bridesmaid here]." I thought about how she's spent all of her free time with that friend and none with her family, how condescending and arrogant she's been toward my parents and me lately, and how surprised I was when so many friends at the wedding declared her to be such a sweet person.

My sister is a complete stranger to me, and I don't know how that happened.

It was mostly exhaustion that pushed me to the point of crying, what with all the wedding flurry, the tons of people to talk to, the uncomfortable shoes, the new job, the long hours and the complete lack of down time between trips to and from OK City.

My sister and her fiance left this morning in their moving truck long before I even thought of getting out of bed, so all was quiet here by the time I got back to Tulsa this afternoon. The cats have been calm and happy, which has done wonders for my aching heart and tired brain. I had a lovely nap on the couch with Sunshine, and I'm beginning to recover from one hell of a busy week.

I think I'll dedicate an entire separate entry to thoughts on the new job. For now, I will say it's exhausting and stressful and very difficult, and I think I might love it.

It feels natural, like I'm getting paid to be myself.

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!!!

More fun at the Smith house this weekend...

I got my bridesmaid dress back from having it altered, and it's gorgeous! I got a great pair of shoes at the Goodwill, and my sister gave all the bridesmaids pearl necklaces at the bridal luncheon yesterday. Today I found a matching pair of earrings on clearance at JC Penny. And with that, I'm ready to go!

The fiance arrived late last night while my sister was at her bachelorette party. I was supposed to be at the party too, but I backed out because I got sick of hearing her friend whine and complain about how much money she was spending on alcohol. I spent the evening with my darling nephews instead.

The wedding is one week from today, and the groom's relatives start arriving in a few days. Thank goodness they're not staying here...we have room for Ryan, and then we're maxed out.

Today was a fun-filled family day. My mom got furious with my sister this morning because, after insisting that one of us would have to pick up the fiance from the airport while she was partying, she changed her mind at the last minute. She'd been drinking, so she apparently felt it was better for her friend to call my dad about the change of plans. He was already at the airport, and he was not amused.

Over a late breakfast my dad became especially cantankerous and said things that upset my sister. And that set off my mom again...

This can't be how it's supposed to be. I know a wedding is stressful, but it shouldn't cause this much turmoil.

In other miserable news, I went to the dentist the other morning and had a crown glued back on. Then I had to spend the next fifteen minutes biting down hard on a piece of cotton, which was very painful because of the TMJ disorder. The dentist was with me all of two minutes during the entire visit. Bam--$95.

That afternoon I got a hair cut, which was not only cheaper than the dentist but also more fun. Hair stylists make the best therapists, and mine is especially wonderful because she gives me a scalp massage when she washes my hair. Heaven!

During my visit, I learned she has a friend who's big into animal rescue--in Oklahoma City, no less--and got her to pass on my email address. Furthermore, she (the hair stylist) and her artist husband will be in Oklahoma City this weekend at the Paseo arts festival, and she encouraged us to stop by. Which is pretty nifty since Ryan is considering going back to school to study art and would love to chat up some fellow artists.

Somehow it felt like a sign that I'm going in the right direction, and with the right person.

Then, as she snipped away at my hair, she marvelled at what an eventful year I had: moving home, getting laid off, meeting a wonderful guy, deciding what to do with my life, etc. First, I was amazed she remembered all that. And second, she spoke as if I had actually accomplished something instead of wasting the last few months of my life while collecting unemployment.

"You've probably had more personal growth in one year than most people have in a lifetime," she observed, as my eyes teared up. It was nice, in the midst of my sister's graduation, all-consuming wedding plans and the seemingly endless related events, to have someone focus on ME for a change...even if I was paying her.

Speaking of ME, I'm leaving for Oklahoma City tomorrow and starting my job the next day. When I get back Wednesday or Thursday, I'll be in the middle of a wedding whirlwind, trying to squeeze in as much packing and kitty time as I can between gatherings.

I'm kind of emotional, because when I leave town tomorrow it marks a major turning point in my life...no going back. Soon I'll be working at a new job that's completely different from what I'm used to, and I'll be living in another town, away from my family again but not nearly as far as before.

It'll be really good for me and the kitties to start our new life, but right now my crazy family has me so emotionally exhausted that I don't even have the sense to feel happy.

The History Channel is beginning to dissapoint me.

If I wanted to listen to a bunch of men cussing at each other in the woods, I could probably find that here.

If I wanted to see Tom Hanks with a really bad hair style, I'd go to the movie theater.

If I wanted to know what happens when inanimate objects are left standing for long periods of time without human interference, I'd check my fridge.

I'm just sayin'.


(To be honest, I have to admit that "Life without People" is pretty interesting as background noise.)

No electronics were harmed in the making of this story.

My desk is sticky, and every time I think I've cleaned up the mess, I find more. Because when a cat spills a glass of Pepsi, it can take months to find all the sweet, sticky droplets.

I don't know what got into Buster, but he got a burst of aggression this evening and messed with Sunshine. I was at my desk getting some things together for eBay when Sunshine screeched and Buster, apparently fearing for his life, took a flying leap onto my desk and into my drink.

Fortunately, the Pepsi didn't get to my laptop...or my camera...or my merchandise. But it did go under my printer, into a basket of papers and down the back of my PC tower.

I was so furious that after the death threats subsided, everyone got a lecture.

(I know all too well the futility of lecturing cats. But when they just sit there, blinking indifferently at my anger, it really sets me off.)

In other news, I have one week of blissful freedom before starting my new job. The apartment hunt is rather frustrating for a Crazy Cat Lady, but I'm determined to find someone who will give my colony of mischievous felines a place to live.

I've decided (I use the word decided as if I had a choice) to put off moving until a couple of weeks after I start working. Three weeks just wasn't long enough to find something and move--not with all my sister's wedding stuff going on. So I'll sort of commute, staying with Ryan while I'm working and coming home on my days off.

Speaking of wedding stuff, I had the shower today and it went really well. One thing I love to do is delegate, and that helped everything come together nicely. I'm glad it's over, because most everything else we have to do basically requires my showing up...no more planning, at least.

The girls who dropped the ball on planning the shower just sent out invitations to the bachelorette party my sister didn't want to have. After failing to help me with the shower (aside from bringing a bag of ice), they had the nerve to ask me for money to help pay for alcohol. They're out of their damn minds!

They've become so infuriating that I actually cuss in front of my mother when I talk about them.

And she doesn't even scold me.

From Job Hunting to Apartment Hunting

...and Craigslist is still a fun-filled haven for wackos.

I ran across a post warning people not to rent from a particular landlord, and when I followed the link they provided, I found myself immersed in one man's world of madness.

This guy believes a chip was implanted in one of his teeth...a chip used by communists and his ex-wife to spy on him. Check it out for yourself, but be warned: I spent way too much time trying to make sense of this guy's incoherent rambling. The whole train wreck theory in action, I suppose.

http://toothphone.net/index1.html

There IS room to go more crazy!

Crazy weekend here at the Smith house...my sister moved in just before her fiance arrived for the weekend, and then Ryan got here, and then my nephews joined us...

My sister's graduation Saturday morning was followed by a huge group lunch at Texas Road House (where I was unable to eat steak due to fucking TMJ disorder and a toothache). Then we had a fun-filled evening helping my sister finish moving out of her apartment.

Somehow we managed to find enough beds for everyone, even with both my sister and me sleeping alone (yeah, you don't want to argue that case with my mom--it's just not worth it!). We had fiances on air mattresses, nephews on cots and spare couches, and too many damn cats in my bedroom.

We rounded off the weekend with a nice Mother's Day lunch with Ryan's mom and sister, and then we came home to find even MORE people congregated at my parents' house: aunts, uncles and cousins visiting my grandma.

Finally, Ryan and I packed his car full of a bunch of my boxes and he headed home.

Last night my mom said, "I hope Ryan doesn't think we're all crazy."

"Well, we can only fool him for so long," I replied.

I'm going Thursday to fill out paperwork for my new job . I start working right after labor day weekend as a receptionist at Banfield, the clinic inside PetSmart. The people I've met there so far--including one of the vets--are very nice and say they're looking forward to having me.

I was fairly certain before I even interviewed that I already had the job, and I don't know if that speaks to how impressive my resume was or how desperate they were for anyone with a pulse and a brain. It doesn't matter, though...they'll love me even more after they know me!

The discounts and benefits there sound really good, and I'm especially looking forward to discounts on veterinary services. I'm not the only one with a toothache...poor George needs attention too, but right after I swore his dental health comes before mine, I broke a damn crown and had to cave in and see a dentist.

Now they're trying to take me for enough money to make a down payment on a house, and in the mean time I'm stuck eating soft foods to avoid excruciating pain. You know, just a little extra excitement to make this crazy month even better.

But I'm still not complaining...!

Gratuitous Swine Flu Joke

I got a very important email today on how to avoid swine flu, and apparently the key is to NOT do this:

Limbo

Change is in the air, and I've spent most of the weekend trying not to wait for it.

My sister is moving in Thursday, and I've almost finished clearing out my cats' stuff from her room. Tonight's the first night the boys are staying in my room instead of their own, and everyone is a little confused.

The boys were pretty restless at first, wanting a bedtime snack but not quite knowing where to look for it (everyone's food bowl has been moved in the last week). But Rescue Remedy in the water bowls, and probably the onset of their normal bedtime, eventually had them all passed out. Then Sunshine got antsy.

She's used to her own nightly routine, which includes trips to the food and water bowls and a stop by the litter box as soon as the boys are put to bed. She's tentatively trying to stick with business as usual, and she's staying fairly calm. I think it helps that she has a bed right here under my desk. And that the boys are unconscious.

As for me, I'm glad the weekend gave me some time to let things sink in; I suddenly have a lot to think about.

After last week's interview in OK City, I got a call from the SPCA wanting to meet with me here in Tulsa! I talked with two managers and a board member for almost two hours, and I definitely felt the pull of being needed--not to mention capable. I really enjoyed my time there, and I think I interviewed better than ever.

So now I'm waiting for two job offers, and then I'm off and running. First I'll have to decide on a job...and then, if I go the way I'm leaning, I'll have to start packing and simultaneously looking for an apartment. I'll have to quickly select a date for my sister's shower and start planning it, and then I'll need to get my dress altered. All this before the end of the month.

After so many months of being a bum, all this action is a bit of a shock.

Not that I'm complaining...

Clarification

When I said well-behaved, I meant "won't attack humans as long as they keep the fuck out."

(Note in the background a teddy bear with its nose ripped off...that's the work of my little Buster.)