Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Missing You
Having to park in the North 40 and walk 50 miles to my desk.
Wearing knee-hi's and business shoes (gawd I want my tennies).
The id badge picture that makes you look like the crack whore that has
just sold her kids for drugs that you see on the front page of the news.
Orientation....Nothing says welcome to our company like 4 hours of
overly happy barbie dolls spewing bullshit.
Back to back meetings that start today....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
It is time...
I thought I wanted to work at the university. Alas, the worst run corporation on the earth would appear to be a well oiled machine compared to the university i.t. dept in this city. One would think that a place that actually teaches methodologies, organization, communication etc... would be the first place to put these ideas to use. They appear to disregard them all together. There are more useless, ridiculous politics played at the university than in Washington itself.
Politics in corporate america are common place. People play for money and power. It's stupid, but it makes sense. There is no money to be had in a public institution and the power is just gathering bodies. I don't get it.
There is one thing that I hate more than Corporate American and that would be shopping for clothes. Yes...I am a woman and I hate to shop. Alert the media.
And since I haven't worn business clothes in about 3 years, I have to shop. My lower half is about 75% bigger than my upper half which makes shopping just a breeze....NOT.
I've been a plus since since as long as I can remember, so I get to shop at places like Lane Bryant and Avenue. I don't have any issues shopping in these places. The issues that I do have with these places are their use of regular size models to attempt to make their moomoos look appealing. How they attempt to put plus size women in low riders....hello. How they charge twice as much than regular sized womens clothing stores, although I guess Abdul the tent maker "does" need compensated.
So I will shop for bidness clothes. I will dig out my briefcase thingie. My leather notepad folder thingie for meetings and on Tuesday I will head off to my new cubicle in corporate america.
I can bitch, but the bitching will be much less when we trade the hamburgers for Delmonico steaks on the grill this summer. =)
Friday, May 11, 2007
Angels in the Outfield?
About 2 weeks ago, after a kinda crappy day and about 2 glasses of wine, I just started crying. I couldn't stop crying. I walked around the house picking up, doing laundry, crying.......talking to......the air or anyone/thing that might have been listening.
I cried that I didn't want to live in this city anymore. How much I hate this area. It's cloudy and dirty and depressing. I cried that I didn't have a decent job. I cried that I was going to college studying something that I had no desire to study. I cried that I wanted things "changed". That I have the most wonderful husband and child. That I love my family, but I needed things to "change". I cried that I fucked up my gastric bypass surgery. That I felt like shit all the time. That I've gained back so much weight. I cried about how much I miss my father (died when I was 12). I cried about missing my soul mate. I talked to them as I cried as I do believe they hear me. Or hope that they do. I begged for change. I begged that if anyone was listening and if they could help this change, please do so before I lose my mind.
Fast forward....
The day after this little mental breakdown I started hyper-nutrienting again. What this means is taking gobs of vitamins and supplements, especially amino acids and enzymes that a few of us who have bothered to do research on post-op gastric bypass have come to ascertain that post-ops are severely missing these in malabsorption. When you have little to no aminos you basically turn your body into mush. And that is how I have been feeling. My brain has been mush. My body has felt like absolute shit.
I did this hyper-nutrienting about a year ago for a few weeks and felt amazing. Why I stopped, I have no clue. Probably because I couldn't afford them after my supply ran out? Probably because I am just a lazy ass. Have been all my life.
Anyhow, I noticed a change in 2 days.
In the past 2 weeks, I have taken the dogs for walks 4 times. Have tons of energy. My mood is better. I have a new job!! Paying GOOD money! Today is my last day at my job within the 7th circle of hell. I've lost 5 lbs. And I have new "fun shoes". hahahha
My brain is feeling at peace. And that's all I've wanted in the past 4 years of this descent.
So, to whomever was listening and pushed me to start hyper-nutrienting again....Thank you.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Money can't buy happiness
I finally have a real job (unofficially) after 2 years of being beyond broke!
June 1st begins operation "Get the Fuck Outta Here".
Meaning, we have lived in this city for about 15 years and have hated basically every minute.
Stranger Danger
I don't know her from Adam.
Her: Can I ask you a question?
Me: Sure
Her: Ok, there's this guy that I was in jail with. We wrote back and
forth to each other and became very good friends. Now we are out and
live in the same housing apartments and he follows me everywhere and
looks in my windows and sends me txt messages saying "run or hide".
Does this sound right to you?
Me: {bottom lip on the floor}......uhhh sounds a little creepy to me.
Her: Really?
Me: ummm yeah
Her: Yeah, it didn't seem right to me.
Few minutes of silence
Her: So they gave me this medicine that they said I needed for my
brain. It made me dizzy and forgetful of things so I stopped taking
it. That's ok isn't it? Nothings going to happen?
Me: I would imagine nothing will happen.
Few minutes of silence and my curiosity got the best of me, I had to ask.
Me: So what are you studying?
Her: Surgical Assisting
Me: {bottom lip now pasted to the floor}
Her: I'm already a medical assistant.
If I have to have surgery the rest of my time here in this god forsaken
city, remind me to scan the room for her, because if she is in there,
give me enough Versed so that I could care less if I die, or let me run
screaming from the room.
Aren't there laws against this kinda shit?