Conclusion: I'm one of the grumpiest bitches on the surface of the earth.
Confession: I'm so over everything right now.
Yesterday found me attempting a 7-8miler, which was interrupted by an email from my dad with some well-intentioned but poorly-timed advice. I was completely shocked and mentally drained and barely made it 3 miles because I bawled most of the way like a little bitch. I came home, collapsed on the sofa in tears, then proceeded to not study for my test and quiz despite getting crack-a-lackin' really early in the day.
I had a great weekend, but today a set of dizzy spells hit again that made me almost fall over at work. I shoulda known it was gonna be a rough day when I snoozed from my 5am run alarm through 7:30 and somehow turned the alarm completely OFF in my sleep. When I almost fell across the copier room later in the day, I had to look at the VP of Accounting and say "no, seriously . . . . I'm not on anything." (Like he's going to believe me? It's been my experience that no one believes you when you say you're not "on something" because they'd much rather believe you WERE.) I'm not supposed to drive when I have my dizzy spells, by the way - but I just ignore the docs and drive anyway.
Rnt I smrt?
Not like the rest of the day was all that smashing. I still don't have the insurance check, which I already wrote payment for (thanks a lot Courtesy fucking Honda and State fucking Farm; remind me letter to hit you both up with one of my scathing Aetna-esque letters.) Then I got into a rather heated conversation with the VP of HR because I had the nerve to ask if one of the less busy girls in the office could take over watering the plants when they both returned (one away on family leave, one helping at warehouse).
She was so angry that I even suggested such a ridiculous thing when everyone is so swamped that she came flying out of her office and downrightrefused to let anyone else help with the plants, then insisted on prioritzing things for me. (By the way; not only is she not my supervisor, she didn't even get partway through my to-do list. I think she thinks all I do is water plants and answer phones.) When I told her I had 800 tasks last week, she didn't believe me. Seriously, I had over 800 tasks in Salesforce last week. Now that the office assistant is out on family leave, I also have her job. I try not to be bitter that they've hired help for her department and I'm the only person in mine, but I want to jump out the window some times. (Note: the accounting clerk and the office assistant are NOT swamped and have mentioned a few times to me how bored they get - but I was a good egg and I didn't throw them under the bus). Apparently, I'm just too good an employee because I'm actually focusing on doing tasks that make the company efficient and profitable and not watering the fucking plants?? Oh, and get this - her solution was to add a third watering day. Thereby not helping me at all, but making her look good for doing something?
And this is what we pay VPs six-figure salaries for.
Shoot me. Just fucking shoot me.
So I told my bosses not to expect me tomorrow . . . just in case. I feel like I got run over by a truck. A spinning, ugly truck. And my ears are ringing. And all I fucking want to do is start training again.
Broken record broken record broken record broken record
blablablabla aren't you tired of hearing about how sick and tired I am
Part of me wants to tell you how worried I am about the test and about work running without me on a skeleton crew. I am worried. I think my bosses are going to hate me for calling in, because that's what bosses do. And I think I'm going to bomb the test, although Karime and my mom insist that isn't in my DNA. But if I were really all that worried, I'd be trying to study right now and get to bed early so I could work through my ass-ness.
Yeah, I made that up. Ass-ness. Cause my life is like ass. Some times it's hot, some times it stinks, some times it's sexy and other times it's just too big for my pants. I'm almost 30 and all I have to show for it is some worthless pieces of paper and some medals. That's what I call my life? That's it? Dude. I'm almost 30 and I've been working and going to college since 16. Where's my corner office? Where's my ticker-tape parade?
Instead, I get ass-ness.
And I'm trying to love it. And I have to say I'm getting back to the point where I love it more than I hate it.
But I sure do hate it some times.
And then there are other times when I sure don't feel anything at all. And I think to myself, why bother? Really? Why bother at all?
Honestly? Those are the times that scare me the most.