When does it really start being you?

I've been contemplating this for awhile now - and I'm going to make every attempt not to make this a bitter, angry, rant. I said I wouldn't do that anymore and I want it to stay that way. That said, a person can only take so much nonsense until they just either 1) give up 2) break completely.

I'd personally rather not be in either camp - I think I'm better than that, however, it's hard when judgements against you are so personal.

I've held a lot of jobs. It's not because I'm someone who can't hold a job, or gets bored and leaves. It's generally a matter of circumstance: company changed management and therefore ideals and company structure, it was only temporary to begin with (see: internships, seasonal - summer work), I moved, I moved again, company was bought out.

Then this started to happen:
bar tending - mismanagement led to frustration, led to anger about job, led to me leaving

el banko - management ceased allowing me to make decisions about my career, led to frustration, led to anger, led to being stuck in a position I didn't want, led to endless talks about under performing - led to more frustration - led to me leaving.

Now this.

Sure it's only a part time gig - but sometimes those part time gigs are what allows you to buy that pint of Ben and Jerry's you could otherwise afford. Or what lets you take your puppy to the vet that you otherwise couldn't do. Sometimes a part time job is a very big deal when considering your check book.

But when do you throw in the towel? When has it become more YOU and less THEM? How do you know the difference?

A few weeks ago I was told some pretty horrific things by my manager. It was completely inappropriate and extremely unprofessional. Was it true? I don't know. I felt completely betrayed, confused and hurt. I essentially went through all the symptoms of loss. I was given a week to think about it.

Upon my return it felt like going into battle. Who was against me? How would I know? What was true and who could I trust? I had, and still have, apparently, no idea. I did, I thought, at least make an effort to keep certain attitudes in check, continue to be friendly with co-workers and members, and generally do my job and keep my mouth shut.

Still not good enough - once again I found myself in an office - door closed - face to face with my manager. Was it handled better? Sure... but there were the accusations again. Nothing had improved. Nobody wants to work with me and if they weren't telling me before it's because they are "chicken shit". I'm on a tight leash and one misstep would be my complete down fall. "It's only a matter of time."

So I'm being set up to fail? No...

How is that not being set up to fail? Waiting for someone to make their next "mistake"? How is it not expecting complete and total failure when it's your word (which at this point might as well be coming from that guy sentenced to prison for crimes against humanity) against all these mysterious people who want to bring you down?

When did what I have to say stop mattering and more importantly why?

"You've changed, you're not the same person you were a year ago." "You aren't the person we hired" "Maybe you're just a harder person now"

I don't think any of this validates what are apparently, non-stop co-worker complaints. Who are these people that have so much time on their hands that they can sit down with the manager of their part-time job and complain about someone they work with for 2-3 hours at a time? Do I have people I could complain about? Sure. I don't have that kind of time, nor do I care.

I've never been in the interest of gunning for someone to be fired. Clearly some people are.

But now, after three jobs of complete frustration and road-blocks, do I just accept that it IS me after all? Or do I chalk it up to bad situations, bad decisions, bad times, and put it all behind me?

It's easy to start being paranoid when nothing you've done for the last two years has been good enough. How is that even possible? How have I spent my whole life to this point striving to succeed, and doing just that, to just...not. How have I taken an active interest in helping others succeed only to have the "others" allegedly turn on me?

Nothing is making sense.

Perhaps it's time to cut my losses and move on - completely close that chapter in my life and just breath that sign of relief and terror. Relief that it's finally over...and terror that's IT'S OVER.

I'm not a quitter - and it takes a LOT to drive me to that decision. Usually it's because I'm determined to prove everyone wrong. There are no easy answers, and there probably will never be an ideal time to make that decision. Those things rarely align.

I think ultimately, once those people have made up their minds to bring you down, no matter how strong you are, and no matter how hard you fight against it, sometimes it's not enough. Is it right? No. Is it moral? No. How do you know when enough is enough? When do you chalk all this up to coincidence and a bad two year span, write the final chapter and call it a day?

It's really too bad there isn't a vaccine for this

Cabin fever. It's hitting eveyrone pretty hard right about now - and it's complete understandable. What's not understandable (or even forgivable) is how this is making people act towards each other. Especially while going about their business in public.

At my second job, I have to **gasp** interact with the public. I know. Most of the time it's pretty ok - but then the cabin fever sets in and all bets are off. This is particularily true since this place has multiple activites for the whole family to partake in all in one spot; especially helpful when it's been gray, cloudy, bitterly cold, depressing, and why won't it stop snowing already?? Esentially, though, once there, nobody (except us employees) want to go home.

I get it - during this particular part of the year I feel quite lucky I don't have to just sit.....at home....staring....watching the snow....watching more TV....whatever it is that people do when the "fever" hits. This doesn't mean I want to be at my second job all the waking hours I am not at my JOB job. No. We have set hours for a reason.

Which brings me to the most interesting phenonon of people going about their business whilt in the hight of the "fever". Aside from the general rudness, there is this complete lack of willingness to believe in the facts. Facts like - closing time.

I can certainly understand, was this a brand 'spankin new place, fully of shiny new things and people, not yet having a grasp on the hours of business. However, this place has been around since before I was born. Most of the people that come to this place have been coming here since before I was born. So there's no excuse for this temporary amnesia. Well, you know, except for the "fever".

Here is an example of a typically conversation I had with people on Saturday - on which day our closing time is 7pm:

Fever Victim: So you're open 'till 9 then?

Me: No, 7 tonight.

FV: Not 9?

Me: No

FV: Really? 7 huh?

Me: Yep

FV: Are you sure it's not 9?

Me: Pretty sure. Friday is 9.

FV: **tries to get me to magically change closing time with the 'sad eyes'**

Me: **reminds FV that I have other things to do with the 'tired eyes'**

FV: **sigh** Ok...so 7?

Me: Yes - 7pm.

Fv: **mopes off sadly**

Then a scene from actual closing time:

Me: **heads towards basketball courts - two young boys are shooting around while one of their father's watches. Proceed to check for stray basketballs and then pauses for a minute to see exactly how long this game will last**

Me (again): **realizes this isn't going to stop. Presense has no effect** Uh - are you almost done?

Everyone in Gym: **boys continue to shoot baskets. Father continues to stare**

Me: I'm shutting off the lights....

Everyone in Gym: **can this this kind of registers but is unpleasant so continues to ignore**

Me: We're closing - light? Off.

Father: **stirs to life!** Oh! What time do you close?

Me: 7

Father: Not 9??

Me:.....No....and I'm shutting the lights off now

Father: Well what time is it?

Me: 7...?

Boys: **Continue to shoot - although they hear the entire exchange**

Me: Ok so - lights off then!

Boys: **Discuss how to play a new shooting game**

Me: Seriously! Lights! Off! Now!

Everyone in Gym: Finally amble to the door.

The moral here is - I don't know what is it other than this post got riducliously long thus proving how much of the "fever" I have. Did you read this whole thing? Then you probably have it too.

I'm pretty sure this is why Kevin, in Home Alone decided to live alone.

One of the things that The (now) Ex used to tell me was my “problem” was that everything had to be “the same” – meaning if I moved or we moved, that I would tend to place my belongings in much the same place that they had been in my previous residence. I’m not going to deny this is very much the truth, however, I’m not sure that I necessarily see a “problem” with this.

For instance, I had bought this lamp at one point, specifically for my desk, so that I could see when I was working on my computer at home. This lamp was, therefore, my, all together now: desk lamp. Meaning that, when I moved, I tended to put this lamp – where? That’s right, on my desk. Weird, right? I know – clearly this makes me certifiable.

Guess what? It’s coming time to move once again (I know, I know…when will it END??) and you know something? I probably WILL put things in much the same places they had been before. Why? So I can find them. Again – weird…right?

Yeah, I know this makes me, again, practically certifiable, but I like to stay sane by putting things where I can find them. So, if, then, for the rest of my life, I want to put my desk lamp on my desk, that’s what I’m going to do. If that makes me crazy, fine. If that bothers YOU…then don’t come over.

Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE redecorating. LOVE IT. If I had the money, my house would look totally kick-ass. It would also be floor to ceiling Ikea (what's great is that you can literally do that to - Ikea? Sells FLOORING!) Still, some of the basics are pretty much going to end up in the same place essentially no matter how many times you move or redecorate. It can’t be helped. End tables go by the couch, the couch goes in the living room, the TV stand goes under the TV, your home office supplies will go by your desk and your desk lamp? Will go on your desk. That’s how it works. At least in my insane world where the sky is blue and the grass is green and that’s just how it works.

Deep thoughts, by Megan Handy

So you know that one - "There's a thin line between love and hate?"

I'm sure we've all been there at one time or another.

It still blows my mind how true this is.

How in the course of one day you can go from feeling completely in love to hardly even being able to look that person in the eye.

How one second you're absolutely sure they would do anything for you, to wondering when they became the most selfish person you know.

How far though, can you cross the line before you can't go back?

Could you ever go back?

Would you want to?

Sometimes you just keep straddling the line, hopping from one side to the other like you're on fire.

Eventually that fire is either going to go out, or completely consume you.

Either way you're going to go up in flames.

Is there ever a time you can get far enough away from the line? Far enough to not make that short skip to hate?

What happens then?

Do you still go up in flames?

Does the love consume you so completely that you can't go back to who you were?

Do you lose yourself?

Do you lose either way?

Do you have to?

Maybe this is all in vain - all this wondering, contemplating, analyzing.

Maybe I'll turn around and someone will say hey "Them's the rules"

Do they have to be?

How do you break the cycle?

Or does it even matter.

Once it's broken with one person, you'll surely enter it again.

The love, the hate, the love.

Back and forth

Like God's playing ping pong with your heart.

With your emotions.

Your life.

Why can't the game just stop without having to fall right off the table.

Can you control the fall?

Can't you just stand up and scream "Enough!"

Maybe if you scream loud enough everyone will finally just shut up and listen.

Maybe then you can get a handle on things.

Then again....

Maybe you won't.

My birthday is my curse

So you know how you get super excited for your birthday? And you try and casually mention it to people like a few weeks before in hopes that they'll remember and send you a text or e-mail or something fun on the actual day?

Awesome, right??

Well that sort of stuff happens to me too, but it always, always has to be accompanied by something really horrible too.

Why is this?

I've tried to thinking back to when this started. I can't really seem to pin point it though. So every year, I get all psyched up and excited. I mark my calendar. I mark my friends' calenders. I date drop in conversation. It's fun! Then I remember THE CURSE and I get a little freaked.

It started out with small stuff - like it being 105 degrees out (No Kidding! Remember? Back in the day? When summers used to be hot? Yeah..) and my cakes would melt. So there are all these pictures of me sitting in front of lopsided birthday cakes.

Now, here we are 28 years later (I'm not ashamed!) and THE CURSE continues! This year it's boyfriend troubles. Big ones apparently. **Sigh**

I'm trying to focus on all the good! There was lots of it!! That's the kind of stuff that keeps me going...thank God! Seriously - if you are reading this and you helped me celebrate even in a small way - you have no idea how much that helped me get through my day. Thank You!!

So here I am, another year older, another curse behind me (sort of). I was hoping for a less dramatic start to my 28th year, but I guess we can't have it all.

And if you don't think the little things are the ones that count - you don't have birthday's like mine.

I guess August forgot to take its Prozac...or something

Nothing fun has happened lately.

Nothing.

Ok - well that's not entirely true. I made the Boyfriend go to a chi chi sushi restaurant with me on Saturday. That was fun.

Nothing else though.

I'm not sure what's wrong entirely. Apparently I'm not the only one. I'm ok with that as long as September and October get their shit together and shape up.

I think it started when I accidentally read something that was never probably intentioned for me. I didn't do it on purpose and I wasn't snooping, but now I wish I could take back what I saw. Just simply erase that tiny brain cell holding that information.

It's slowly destroying me.

I'm trying to act normal, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job. The Boyfriend is too perceptive of me. Damn it.

I'm also...just...tired.

I probably shouldn't be. I mean I just had two weeks of vacation. Suck it up buttercup! Right?

It's hard when you have to go back to your crappy job and all the...well...crap that you got to so briefly leave behind. Just for a little bit.

I came back and there it all was: the lawn that needed to be mowed, the weeds that needed to be pulled, the carpet that needs to be cleaned, all the extra stuff that just needs to get out of our house! Then there were the bills I can't pay, the two jobs that think I suck....

So when the Boyfriend went out for awhile on Friday night I should have been excited to get some menial stuff done. Poke around on the computer. Post those pictures I keep referencing but never do anything about.

So I showered and then realized I was so very hungry. I fixed some grub and then sat down. Then it was over.

Now the computer is so very far away! I mean all the way upstairs! Not to mention I was broken because of kickboxing.

Then the sitting/eating combo made me so very tired!

Next thing you know, the laundry is still sitting in the baskets, the dishes still need to be done, the scary place under the stairs is still crowded with all the crap we don't know what to do with, and all I can think about is how badly I just want to go to bed.

So here we are - another depressing post. Maybe you've all just ceased reading it at this point? Come back! I promise I'll be fixed very, very soon!

Until then - please to enjoy this litany of HILARITY I have assembled for you:

Those crazy kids

Now you can read OTHER PEOPLE'S drunken texts, FANTASTIC!

I'm not 100% sure what this is but I think I like it

The lighter side of "parenting"

Warning! Here I go blogging about work yet again

I've been working since I was 15 years old. Actually, I was probably a bit younger. The point is, that at 27 years old, I've been working almost half of my life already.

That is nuts.

Since I started college in January of 2000, I've been working at least 2 jobs, at one point three.

That is also nuts.

Between all those jobs, I've probably worked at least 6-7 days a week and up to, and sometimes, more than, 14 hours a day.

I don't know what the math on all this is - quite frankly I don't think I want to know least I fling myself in front of oncoming traffic. What it means, though, is, when you take into account the additional jobs, the extra hours, the 6-7 days a week of work - I've probably been working as long as I've been alive.

You know, based on hours.

Yikes.

If I'm a little burned out at this point, who can blame me?

Oh - that's right. My current job.

I find this very disturbing.

I mean ok - I'm starting to get a touch worried, because obviously my frustrations at my two jobs, usual separate issues, are starting to more than, apparently, effect my work performance.

Up until I started working at El Banco, I never had any sorts of "performance issues".

Ever.

I'm not just trying to talk myself up here either. I literally mean this. The only other time a boss said to me that is seemed like I didn't want to be there was when I didn't want to be there. I was completely aware of this though.

I figured I was doing a pretty good job of adjusting.

I wasn't aware of any blatant issues.

That's when they pulled out the reports. You know, because the numbers never lie! Dang it.

Ah, yes. The numbers.

This would be where we take a RADICAL departure from any of the jobs I've had ever before.

I've never had to compete with the numbers. It was always just be doing my job. Now there are rankings, and percentages, and goals, and numbers.

This pretty much holds true for both jobs.

I'm held accountable for attain ting all these...numbers.

There are other things too: Why don't customers come in just to see you? Why aren't you shaking the hand of every Tom, Dick, and Harry to enter the joint? Why aren't you on the Valium we freely give out to keep our employees at the super extreme high we require?? Above all - have you seen these NUMBERS??
(P.S. I'm totally kidding about the Valium, but they might want to consider it. That's the only way I'll every be Miss Mary Sunshine Every. Single. Damn. Day.)

I'll admit - I'm a bit alarmed that within the span of a week both my jobs have brought my attitude into this. It's never been an issue before. While clearly I need to be keeping that in check, I think it says a lot too.

It says "I'm sick of working! I'm sick of having not only just regular job stress but the stress of meeting all these....NUMBERS!"

I went to college. I blasted through that joint in 4.5 years with a Major and a double Minor. I was BUSY! I know shit. But here's the thing...

I'd still rather just be managing an office. I'd rather be ordering office supplies and getting the CEO coffee. I like being helpful. I enjoy making other people's lives easier. I'm a damn good assistant.

Yet society expects MORE.

Apparently I just don't have that to give. Well - apparently, I should say OBVIOUSLY.

Right now I don't have any answers. I don't know where to go from here. I mean how do you suddenly start walking into the place that just berated you for your ENTIRE JOB PERFORMANCE farting fairy dust and rainbows?

I'm just not the bigger person like that. My immediate reaction is to get MORE gloomy and MORE angry and just do LESS of absolutely EVERYTHING they want me to do.

You know, recently, one of my former co-workers sent me a little e-mail showing all the products from "back in the day" when they used to put cocaine and heroin and all that just in like cough syrup. Now, I'm not saying we should all go around using street drugs. Trust me. I'm the VERY LAST person that will condone that. However, I do think we need come up with a product that for now is completely legal and will just kind of float you through your work day. Or better yet - just kind of make you unconscious - like you go to work and you're totally normal, but once you get done you don't remember any of it.

Fantastic!

Until then, I'm going to have to keep playing the game. The game that I can no longer win. Yeah - THAT sounds like fun.

I have a secret...you see there's this club, and I'm not in it

I have a secret. It’s something I didn’t even realize myself until recently. In fact, I couldn’t even really put a finger on it until I was ready to admit it to myself first. It’s not a big secret and I know I’m not alone, well,l I know at least one other person that had this secret too. You’d probably never even guess if I told you to – even if I said I would wait, and I would…wait that is.

See, there’s this sort of… “club” and I’m not in it. Not really. Sure, I get invited to hang out, but I’ll never have the membership card to prove anything. Nobody will ever sit me down and show me the secret handshake, or teach me the special knock. I realize there’s really nothing I can do about this, the club is closed to me and that’s understandable, but it doesn’t stop me from being jealous. Just a tiny bit.

I’m not jealous all the time, just some of the time. And it’s not really jealously, but a sort of twinge in my heart that’s there to remind me, to keep me in check. The twinge says: “You may have been invited to the party but you don’t get to stay for the show”. It reminds me of all the things I’m not really a part of. It reminds me of all the things, that no matter how hard I try, will never be reciprocated back to me. They just can’t, and that’s ok, that’s the way it should be because some of those things aren’t mine to have. Not yet.

It’s that love between a parent and child, father and daughter. It’s the thing that’s not mine to either have, or understand. Yet, it makes you want to be part of its warm embrace, keeping you safe. That unconditional love that can only occur in those very special relationships, the ones that go much deeper than us non-parents can sometimes understand.

I had a friend who already had two children when she met her boyfriend. After awhile, he started talking about wanting children of his own, much to my friend’s surprise. She didn’t get it...but I did. I never told her though. I never told her how it’s all about being in the club, about not only having that special parent-child bond, but that parent-parent bond as well. How you want to be able to look at a child doing something amazing and then reach over and take the hand of the person who created that amazing thing with you.


There’s someone else I can’t tell this too. I think he senses it, but he’s getting it wrong. He’s misinterpreting the jealously as a competition for his love. That’s not the case. There is no competition, and the love isn’t created equal, nor should it be. He doesn’t understand the way my friend didn’t understand. He’s already in the club. I’m still standing outside the gates, watching it all happen from between the iron bars.