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2002-01-05 / 3:57 p.m. ~Feeling Like Eeyore~ Why are three day work weeks always hell? I'm cold. My right hand, the one that sits atop the mouse so often whilst I'm online, is freezing. I'd turn up the heat, but it doesn't need to be turned up. It's just me. I don't think I can type too much right now. It's about a month since the Auction Debacle, and consequently I am in the same portion of my womanly cycle. I have been insanely irritable, sensitive and prone to breaking down in tears. Unfortunately, I did so at work, yesterday. It wasn't pretty, and it's so tedious, the whole thing, I don't think I can write about it. Hence, I haven't written here for a couple days. Everything is just too awful. I hate my job. Why did I ever think I was "comfortable" there? That going back after my vacation felt good? Was I fucking insane? I hate those people, they are ignorant, not to mention plain stupid, and they don't use their minds, they have no original thoughts, they wait to be instructed. I sank in there. It's close, it was easy. No commute, home at lunch, a steady paycheck. This is now the official longest I've ever worked at any job. It's official. Four years next month I started there as a temp. Four years in April I was hired permanently. Suffice to say I took initiative, I showed leadership qualities yesterday, D., the Supervisor, has mysteriously not been at work, I have no clue why, unless her son died from complications during surgery. No explanation. So, I took charge, just a bit, but Kukla's sister is the Manager (M), and she didn't take kindly to my organizing abilities. No. She was a bitch, to everyone, she is menstruating too, I could smell it on her, like fish. She must wear pads, they hold odor. Her sister smells like deodorant pads when it's her turn. She comes around reeking of it. I always want to say, "What is that smell?!", but I know what it is. Those things stink. Kukla, on the rag, is an example of the worst of humankind. Sometimes I really dislike women. No kidding. Nothing is good right now. Nothing at all. Hermione called me at home day before yesterday, left a message saying I'd better not be working, due to the snow. I called her back after work - they sent us home at 4:00, and I have NO clue why. The phones were insanely busy. I came home and called Hermione and we talked for an hour and a half. It was like old times. It was nice. We made plans. The snow was nothing. It looked pretty on the trees, but the roads were fine, where I live. My commute was fine. I was late to work Thursday because a woman who lives in one of the downstairs apartments called out to me, wanted to tell me someone broke into her apartment. Someone removed her doorframe, used a tool to push the door in, she came home to find the door ajar, nothing was taken, did I hear anything, she wanted to know. No, I work. I thought about it later, and realized it must have been someone she knows, trying to scare her. Who would break in and not take anything? Why would they come in the front door instead of a window? That's just stupid. Not take anything? Nothing at all? Hmmmm..... Four people in our department didn't show, though the weather voicemail message for the site said, "IF NECESSARY, come in late", so I went in. They didn't show. I resented them. Yesterday they showed up, I asked Penelope how she enjoyed her day off, "Oh, it was fine, I just hung out at home, didn't go anywhere....well, I went to Wal Mart".....uh huh. You couldn't make it to work, but you could make it to Wal Mart? I didn't say anything. I hated them. We suffered, three of us taking one phone call after another, without end, changing one address after another, hang up, it rings, take that call, hang up, it rings, for hours, no lunch, skip lunch, leave early, still lose an hour, we're screwed because they want to shut the site. So they show up, want to talk about the snow, how they watched the news and didn't even try to drive, but the phones are the same, it's still incessant, nothing's changed, and they want to chat like it's not suddenly peak. I was furious. I took charge, Kukla freaked, I freaked. Nothing's good. I feel so stuck. I have no college degree, three years college, no degree, three different schools, I'm educated, I'm talented, I'm intelligent, but who would hire me? I'd have to commute. Guess what my car is doing now? Sometimes it won't start. Yeah. I turn the key, nothing, like a dead battery. The battery is ONE year old. The alternator is new. Is it the starter? The ignitor? Fuck me to tears. I sit. I think, Oh great, I've got to get a jump, I can't go back to Pep Boys, they suck, they overextend themselves, they have one million cars in their two parking lots waiting to be worked on, they can't look at my battery I bought there for another two years probably, Sure, we'll get to it right away, then two years later, Oh, we're just about to get to it, right away, you're next. I sit. I turn it again. Nothing. I wait, I pump the gas pedal, totally unrelated, but it makes me think I'm trying, I lift the hood, I jiggle the connections, I try again, nothing. Then again, it starts right up. I turn a corner, the brake light comes on. At lunch I go to add more oil because it leaks like a sieve, it's full! The cold slows the leak. I add brake fluid, yeah, I keep brake fluid inside my car. The light is off. It starts. Ater work, I turn the key, it's slow to start, like the battery is almost dead. And I am planning to go to the hockey game tomorrow. Picture me stuck in the parking lot at the train station. I'll ask a cabbie for a jump, I have cables. I'll try to park near the taxi stand. The car is dying, 17 years old, I don't want to spend a fortune on a 17 year old car. I'm stuck at my job, I hate everyone there, they are so ignorant, so stupid, so hormonal, and so am I, hormonal. My apartment has a layer of dust inside three inches thick. I have an aversion to cleaning. I can vacuum, but that's it. I haven't shopped for fresh food in months. I eat takeout or microwave popcorn. If it weren't for vitamin supplements I'd be dead. The cats seem fine. I was mean to them last night, yelled at them for being who they are. Told them to leave me "THE FUCK ALONE!" several times, like when Gladys jumped on the bed and off at 1:30 in the morning, waking me. I shut the bedroom door for the first time in months. I locked them out until this morning. I let them in and we slept, Norma cuddling against my legs, atop the down comforter I finally put on a couple nights ago, Gladys under covers. We slept 'til 2:30, me dreaming.
And my hand, my right hand, is freezing. I can't believe I've typed this. I was in pain yesterday from all the typing at work. My whole wrist was tingling, my hands cold, my fingers barely working, saying the same things over and over, "May I have your social please? Your name and date of birth? What is the new address? City, state and zip code? Is there anything else I can help you with?", over and over, I could hear myself saying it, but it wasn't even me, it was some automaton. And the Big Game Lottery was up to $56 Million, but I didn't go get a ticket, I thought, What's the use, I won't win. I feel like Eeyore. Yeah, I'm depressed. I'll get over it. It's rough right now, and losing my composure at work for maybe the fourth time in as many years was not pretty, having to hurry to the bathroom, hoping no one would see my red eyes, the Manager (M) trying to talk to me, me saying, "You know what, there is no need for that, all is well, I am emotional today, just let me work! I am here to WORK!". It was crazy, I totally didn't want to deal with her, I don't care if she's the president of the fucking United Aarab Emirates! Do they have a president? I hate the nepotism, I hate that Kukla slides by on everything, that she can never be fired, that she can talk on the phone on personal calls during our peak, that she can stay late to finish her work, earn some O.T., because she was goofing off instead of working. I hate Kukla, immature as it sounds. I only went to the hockey game with her because she gave me tickets as a Secret Santa gift. I have never really liked her. She is intensely selfish, insensitive, inconsiderate, and well, a bitch. Yesterday was nothing new. I simply confronted her. "You know how you want people to come to you directly when you've said something to offend them? Yeah? Well, you were really rude to me just now! Really rude, and I didn't deserve that. I tend to step in as leader when there is no leader, and we need a leader, I was only trying to get us going." "Oh, you were rude to us", she says, "We have a manager and she is here, and you are disrespecting her, and I don't say that because she is my sister", uh, yeah, duh, you do, "But she is in charge, not you". Basically, it was a sibling thing. Period. Look, for the two of you who will read this, yes, I know exactly which two, and why should I care? Do I want a group of strangers reading my diary? Truthfully, in the long run, no. Here, I've written an entry, it's not pretty, it's disjointed, my right hand is barely functioning, my thoughts are barely coherent, it's all a jumble, feels like a really long story, all of it, typing bothers me, how have I typed all this so far? Anyway, here it is, okay? An entry. I'm going to try to accomplish some things, but it's already late, 4:30, and I feel like I've blown the day, as I do every day. Cost of the War in Iraq
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