9.09.2008

If you don't like inane rambling and lots of bitching, please don't read this, because frankly, I don't want to hear it.

Ok, so I know I haven't typed in a while, so I'm going to get a lot said...or not. Because I'm feeling way crazy right now. I had a really bad headache this afternoon, and so I took a couple of excedrins. Ephedrins? Ephedra? Are excedrins illegal?...because they FEEL illegal...

I've got the giggity shakes for real. And, then I tried to type the word "dawg" today, but it looked so awkward coming out of my pretend mouth. Like, I was "working like a dawg," but then I thought, why do people write it like that? Because it's more letters, and why would you add instead of take away??

Hot dawg? I want a hot dawg with mustard and ketchup? See, it's just not right.

And, by the way, I'm rubbing my feet together furiously (sign of serious anxiety), so you have to read this really fast. In fact, my fingers can't even type fast enough, but that's mainly because my keyboard is missing the c and v keys, so I have to make a point to think about it and push those little rubber jimmies that make the letters. So, I have to think too hard about typing, and it's messing me up. I have no flow.

Speaking of flow, you should see that at the film festival or download it - powerful stuff. And, then you should stop wasting water. Or before that. What was I saying?

Oh, and I went to my doctor's appointment today for my wrist, and I went in and told her my name and "yes, I know I'm here an hour early, but I didn't have anything better to do." So, she's looking on the computer, and looking...and looking.......and I get an idea and open my datebook, flip to a page, shut it, and say, "ok, so I'll see you next week..." and she put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. I told her that all day, it's been that kind of day where you're constantly losing clumps of hair, and by the end of the day, you're saving them in your cheek and your locker and your pockets, because maybe someone can salvage them later. The wonderful thing is, she bent over and showed me the bald spots on top of her head. I was like, "YOU are my sister, and I love you!" So, yay, it's not me...not that I cared what the hell anyone else was thinking.

Yes, all day it was like that. But, I'll tell that in a minute. So, on to the part AFTER the time that happened first. So, I'm driving down the road, and I have to merge, and when I do, I almost crash into the back of a Lexus, who had slammed on its' brakes. And, then there was a Mercedes in front of that, and I thought, what were to happen if a Lexus and a Mercedes were to crash into each other? Would it turn into bunnies and gold coins and toys? Would everyone get paid and houses and kids?

But what if two Lexuses...Lexi......were to crash into each other? Does that make it a Lexi? Would that become the greatest car known to man? Or would it just become a giant, money-gobbling monster and suck up your moneys, like those characters you play in games that the money sucks into you when you get close to it? I don't understand...

What would happen when I crashed into the back of a Lexus is I would go to jail.

And, I found the reminder feature on my phonetime, so that's dangerous, because I like to talk to myself. But I don't like to relisten to it, because I hate my ignorance and my stupid-sounding voice. I'm pretty assuming that's why no one at work takes me seriously, because I sound like some sort of court jester, but without that shitty hat. I hate that thing.

Ok, so TODAY. Wait. What did I need to say? Was it about yoga? No, but I need to....make an appointment, I mean, not talk about it. I can't talk about things I don't know, but watch me.

Oh, yeah, I got it now. So, we've been having a problem with recovery not faxing up our xray orders, so we can put them into the computer, so we can process our xrays. I've said something about it several times, but no one ever listens to me, but we've already established that. So, I emailed THE APPROPRIATE PERSON, who's in charge of recovery, told her we were still having issues, and also mentioned that there were people wandering around the OR with no identification on. And, it doesn't matter if it's a med student or an anesthesia student, everyone is supposed to have a badge, right? Correct me if I'm wrong on this. Oh wait, you can't. That's why I have a blog and type on it in random sentences is because you can't stop me so ha.

Anyway, MY BOSS says this morning, IN FRONT OF A STRANGER, ANOTHER EMPLOYEE AND JESUS, that from now on, if I have a problem with something, I need to go through him.

?????

Why? Because I can't speak english? Or, because I'm doing cartwheels while I say things? I'm confused...if I'm talking to the proper person, what's the problem?

So, later on, I told him, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to get anyone in trouble. But we're still having a problem with that." Him: "No, we're not." Me: "????? Yes...we ARE."

I wasn't aware that he shot all the recovery films. I seem to find myself down there from time to time, but maybe I'm just dreaming it up.

So, then he says, "well, that's not your concern. You need to worry about Jennifer and getting Jennifer to work on time."

..........................

Wha.............?

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Did I just...hear those words? Did I....was I making up words in my head and making him say them? What the hell just happened? Did anyone get the number of that refrigerator?

Ok, so let's break this down, because I LOVE to over-analyze things, because it just gets me even more riled up. Especially when people are in the wrong.

Number 1.
What?

Number 2.
We're NOT having a problem? Seriously, are we ALL delusional then?

Number 3.
So, something in which I'm obviously involved and take part...DOESN'T concern me? Seriously? I'm being serious now. Did you just say it DOESN'T???? So, wait. What you're saying is basically that NOTHING concerns me. Ever. At work. So shut the hell up. Hmmmmm........ That.....I'm lost there.

Number 4.
What does "Jennifer getting to work on time" have to do ANYTHING with getting orders from recovery in a timely manner? Am I....is this related, and I'm just not seeing it??????????

Number 5.
What the FUCK are you talking about???!?!!!???

So, then he says, "you just need to tell me." Me: "But you don't take me seriously!" Him: "I always take you seriously." Me: "NO. You NEVER take me seriously."

So, I just walk away at this point, because I'm pretty sure it was swollen and red. You could have popped a vein with a pin.

And, I know that he thinks that I'm a raving lunatic.......because I HAVE to be a raving lunatic for him to LISTEN TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Drama queen IS in my job description for life and in my blood, but seriously...do you really think I'm saying these things just to make work HARDER????? I'm SOOOOOOOOOOO confused.

So, I asked several, um, X's (not ex-boyfriends - these are anonymous peoples), and they all said, "it's because you went over his head; it's because you stepped on his toes; it's because he doesn't like to be the boss; it's because he doesn't like to manage; it's because he's a crappy manager; it's because he's embarrassed...."

Seriously, these are serious remarks. Just because I don't understand.

As for calling me out in front of other people, do you know that he does that to NO ONE BUT ME????????? WHY does he challenge me in front of others? It's because he likes to use that "well, I COULD write you up, but I'm doing you some sort of sick favor by not managing" card out on me...IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. I'd be LESS inclined to be freaking out at this point, except that WHY IS IT ME????? Derrick says it's because I won't shut up. So, he just LIKES to fight? Is that it? Join a damn UFC team! Be the boss of you! Boss other people around! Take personal jabs at them!

But, it's also because he's an EXTREME chauvinist. And, when I say extreme, I can't really make that word big enough. Women are totally inferior to him. Not just men, but HIM in particular. Women should be barefoot and pregnant in front of the stove, and if you didn't get supper ready in time, you better get ready for the stoning of your life, and I don't mean weed. I literally picture him as a big giant boot, poised and ready to step on you (any woman). And, this is after almost four years of knowing this guy!

It's CONSTANT banter about how women are inferior and stupid and retarded and you should not complain, because any complaints that come out of a woman's mouth are automatically labelled as bitching and nagging. But men can say what they like, well...because they're MEN! Yay, men! No women voters! Women are why there is war and trouble in the world!

I know you think I'm shitting you, but I'm not. I can read people pretty good, and I HEAR all his little under comments, and I GET all his side remarks, and I UNDERSTAND his subliminal implications and inferences.

.......................................................................................

I'm going to stop for a minute. Because I'm coming a little bit down off this medicine, plus I've really upset myself.

And, now my last apartment complex is on my ass about paying for $1400 worth of damages and bills, and I haven't the slightest. I called to talk to the lady yesterday, and she was SO hateful and got me SOOOO worked up, that I told her to fuck off at the end of our conversation and hung up on her.

I know you people don't REEEEEEEEEEALLLLLLY know me. But, for me to get THAT MAD, that I tell a complete stranger to fuck off? Yeah, that's pretty bad. Think what you must, that I'm a whore or a bad person or...some...other type of bad thing. But, this lady was SUCH A BITCH, that she wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise. She threatened me, and ME, being in as much debt as I used to be, have NEVER had a creditor threaten me. Plus, I've always been extraordinarily cooperative with every one of them....until they start calling me at work. THEN, I get pretty mad. But, even then, I don't curse.

This woman...oh my GOD, the shit she was saying to me, saying they were going to destroy my credit, to which my response was, "it's too late, my credit's already IN the crapper, so you've got nothing there." Her: "Well, you'll be upset when they start garnishing your wages!" Me: "Whatever. Do what you have to do. I know regardless of what I say (I'm screaming OVER her at this point, STILL talking, not letting me talk), you guys are going to get my money anyway, because it's WHAT YOU DO. YOU RIP PEOPLE OFF." She kept saying that I didn't turn in a 30-day notice to move, which is a bald-faced lie. I was on CRUTCHES and took the notice in. She said, "well, did anyone sign it??!?" Me: "For the love of God, NO! No one has EVER signed my notice, in ALLLLLLLL the times I've been living in apartments!" Her: "WELL, HOW DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN YOU TURNED IT IN??????" Me: "SO I'M IN CHARGE OF THE OFFICE, NOW???? WAS I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING PAYROLL, TOO??????"

It completely turned into a screaming match. She was NOTHING but hateful. She couldn't say ONE thing in a decent tone.

And, her name was Rosemarie, and she sounded like a man.

And, I don't care for her very much. She goes probably third of my "Wouldn't Piss on If Was on Fire" list.

So, I paced around a bunch, scared the cats, ran up and down the stairs twice and tried very hard to settle down. When I did(n't), I called back and told the operator, "I want to talk to ANYONE ELSE IN THE BUILDING besides Rosemarie. I don't care if you connect me to the janitor." Her: "Oooookay...anyone but Rosemarie........so, she's the one assigned to your account?.....Oooooooo.....hmmm.......well, I guess I can connect you to her supervisor?...uh oh, but she's already left for the day. You could leave a message if you like?" Me: "Do that."

So, I waited, left a quite detailed and angry message, but not cursing at this woman, telling her that I KNOW they don't give a rat's tail about their so-called "customers" but that woman needs to have her rear-end put in place, and that I KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO GET MY MONEY REGARDLESS, but that there was NO WAY in ice cold hell would I go through this woman for ANYTHING, and if she'd call me back, I'd set up a payment plan, but it would only be for like $25 a month, because I, too, have other "LIFE obligations," and I wasn't going to let them bleed me dry for no damn reason, to please call me back, and thank you.

Ok, maybe I cursed a little.

For real, yo. It takes a LOT to push my buttons, but if you push the right ones, you'll get to see...and it's usually when it gets personal like that, threatening me that their lawyers would come after me. Do it! Send them! What will they get? Sure, here's a bunch of junk, a tore up Dyson vacuum cleaner and a ghetto car! Hope you enjoy! Oh, blood, too??? First born???? WHAT ELSE TO SHUT YOU FUCKERS UP???????

Let me pause here and just mention that another reason this has brought me to the apex of anger is because I just GOT OUT of serious debt...and now, I'm going back in?


I squalled my eyes out forEVER. I called Heather. I called Dave. I bitched. I ran answering machines to the end. I cried some more. I scared the cats. I cried some more.

Eventually, I ran out. I figured, what the hell? I mean, whatever's going to happen is going to happen. It's totally in God's hands now (those of you who are atheists and agnostics can gag now). I'm not going to do ANYTHING but roll with the flow.

Right now, I'm focused on other things. Work, which I'm hating more every day. I've been going with a friend to his AA meetings, because I'm about HELPING people, not SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF THEM.

Also, it's really put a pause on the whole Peace Corps thing. I keep telling myself that once EVERYTHING gets paid off, I'm outta here - boyfriend, husband or not. I'll meet who I'm supposed to meet. I'll have kids if I'm supposed to have them.

But I think that was one of the biggest things that really pissed me off.

More debt.

I know "everyone has debt," blah, blah, blah, but you know what? That's why I've been working so damn hard to get OUT of mine! Because it WAS my debt, but now it's not! Because I DID IT! But, now there's more??? What's next?????

*sigh*





I have to go, because I don't want to talk or type anymore. Please, if you have crude comments to make, save them, because I can honestly say, I DON'T care. I've gotten dragged down enough in the past couple of weeks, that I REALLY don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to know what you think of me. I don't want to hear what you think I should do. I don't WANT advice.

I'm a grown woman. And, I'm strong-willed. And, I WILL do what I want, no matter what you say. But, thank you for your concern - I WILL treasure it. Seriously. I appreciate the caring, but I don't always care for the advice. If I want it, I SWEAR to all that is holy that I WILL ask. I don't ask for help a lot, but I will, if I desperately need it.

Please heed my advice. And, thank you for your concern.

Please just keep me in your thoughts, and that will be enough. I pray for my own patience, and I am indeed tested and usually fail miserably, but that's mine alone.


Ok, someone has showed up with offerings of presents and food, so I must go. Because I like those things, and they make me happy, and I sorta need that today, right now.

So, um, thank you and good night.

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