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Thursday, May. 06, 2004 / 9:36 p.m. ~Totally Overwhelmed, Defeated~ I tried to talk to my supervisor at work today, tried to tell her how it's going for me... when she approached me about being one minute late. I told her fine, I'm having attendance issues, I'm tardy, I have poor attendance, and she laughed and said, "No", and then something else I can't remember. I told her I'm a night person, and this getting to work by 8:00 business is not easy for me, in fact it's fucking extremely difficult. Every morning I wake up and say, aloud, "I'm so tired", because I am. It's just after 9:30 now and I feel like I've been up for two or three days straight. My supervisor told me she goes to bed at 9:00 every night, and her baby wakes her up in the middle of the night. She has a little baby, and a husband. I have two cats. I don't know, we all have something, we all have lives, we all have some things easy, some things beyond difficult, but I can say with some assurance right now that my job is totally overwhelming me... this week. Next week? Who knows. My business contacts at the real coporation, the one which has us under contract, are idiots. Some are nice, but for the most part they don't know their jobs as well as I know their jobs, and they earn twice what I earn, oh yes, I've looked. TWICE! I should be making around $35K to do what I do, and I make nowhere near that. Yesterday I took no breaks, save lunch. Today I squeezed one in in the morning to scan some photos to post online, in the afternoon there was no way. If I'd taken a break I never would have finished. We can't be one minute late, we can't clock out one minute late, NO OVERTIME, we have to get there at 8:00 now, yet the work doesn't arrive until 10:00, earliest. Most people socialize in the a.m., but we are required to account for every single minute of our day, in an email at the end of every day. We have to leave our work in color-coded folders, in a particular order, at the end of each day, and we are audited on this, and our documents, and we audit the company, and I will SO get Googled for this at some point, but know what?, fuck it. I feel like I'm in the military, only we don't hold prisoners naked with bags on their heads, and force them into demeaning positions so we can photograph them and make fun of their penises and fuck them in their asses with broom handles and such. Seriously. The combination today of my job, and what a ridiculous day I had trying to do it, and the amount of money I spent putting gas in my car after work, and seeing new photos of prisoner torture, on the news, has sort of sent me over the edge. I'm not just dizzy, I'm totally stressed out and tense and feel a bit trapped and like I don't know what to do. I was laid off, I was rehired in a new department, I had two to three months of training, and now I'm on my own, and things were good until my coworker walked out and they gave me her work to do. It's fucking insane now, and today everyone was laughing and partying and talking and walking around and being stupid and I had SO much work to do and I didn't get it, I just didn't get it, I couldn't even do it, I was begging people to take it. I feel like I can't go to sleep and get up and go back there. Every day it feels like I never left. It's just paper everywhere and tedium and specifics and audits and how can everyone be goofing off while I'm totally overwhelmed? I asked Jane today, "Don't other people have work to do? Veronica only got one envelope today? How can that be? Why do I have so much? What is going on?", but she had no answers. No one has. I think I want to air my grievances to my manager tomorrow. Just let her know she's about to lose me. I'm just not sure I can handle this. I hate to admit defeat, it's not like me, but this job is making me ill. It's no longer challenging, it's absurd. It's no longer new and fun or exciting or even manageable, it's totally overwhelming. I'm too old to feel like this, and there is no reason to do it besides the weekly check, which is far too small, and the proximity to my home. I'm spinning. I am going to eat an apple and think. I can't stop thinking. There has to be a way out, there just has to be. I've been here before, but in the other department. I was here there every week or so. But now? This is new to me, this feeling that I'm alone in this feeling. That I'm the only one there who is going through this. I must talk to someone higher up, tomorrow. Maybe. Soon. Ugh. Cost of the War in Iraq
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