Freedom comes with a price

The boys are with their dad tonight. I'm here, free as a bird. So being the free wheeling young woman I am, I sat down to tackle my long ignored budget. And remembered there is a very good reason it was ignored.

It just doesn't work. The incoming does not meet the outgoing, even if I pare down non-necessities like cable and internet. Actually, those were the only two non-necessities. And since I need television like I need air, they're only borderline non-necessity, borderline take it away and you will suffer.

The problem is, if I have absolutely no unexpected expenses, and keep the grocery bill down, I'm about $375 short for the month. I'm looking for a part time job, but apparently so is everyone else. The only part time jobs I'm finding right now are for part time, during the day. There are lots of them, so I'm going to assume most people are independently weathly looking for something to keep the occupied from 1-5, four days a week. Because those are the only jobs out there. And they do me no good, as I'm at work from 1-5, more than four days a week.

Urg. Each month, my credit cards go up a little more, and I hate that. It scares the crap out of me. And I wasn't able to get my roof replaced, because, hello, roofes are made out of gold covered in oil covered in other expensive things, and there was just no way. I see that biting me in the ass this winter. Crap. Crap.

Ahem. Going to enjoy my "free" night, as it's the only thing I can afford.

How to wake up in three seconds flat

Open eyes at 4:23 a.m. *PING*

Inner (bitchy) voice says, slyly, "You didn't happen to mail out that really important document yesterday, did you?"

Say "CRAP". Out loud. Because no, I did not mail out that really important document yesterday. Fuck. Damnit.

Picture telling boss of my screw up.

Ty to not vomit.

Picture sneaking into work right now, in pjs, and mailing out document. But realize postage meter automatically updates and would still show document being mailed today and not yesterday as it was supposed to be you freaking fuckwit.

Picture breaking (brand spanking new all automatic stupid freaking fuckwit of a) postage meter.

Picture telling boss of my screw up.

Still trying to not throw up.

Take shower, wonder how long it takes between being fired and for them to repossess my car and foreclose on my house and ohmygod the boys and Dog and I will be homeless and we'll have to go live with my mother (not sure why her, but this is my panic session, I don't need to make sense) and then I'll be arrested for killing her because she drives me insane and my (former) boss will say, see, I knew she was bad, she didn't even remember to mail out my really important document.

Tear out hair and rend clothing. Collapse in heap on my bed, mourning what it was like before the Big Screw Up.

Then realize, crap. We're finishing that really important document today, which means I will be mailing it out this afternoon, not yesterday. Yesterday we finished a different really important document which did not have to be mailed out. I am an idiot. A still employed, very awake, shaky with relief and left over panic idiot.

It's going to be a long day.

Cybil times two

You remember my lovely meeting from hell in which we trod on your ego and make you feel like an unworthy piece of ...gum on the bottom of my shoe? Yeah, that one.

This week? Complete opposite. Not that I'm complaining, but could we arrange a system of some sort? Something to let me know what to expect? Because this week, my bosses have spent the entire week praising me. All week. Not just a 'thanks' but 'great job on this' and 'that's perfect!' and all sorts of other positive things.

I love it, don't get me wrong, but perhaps a code so I know what's coming and don't stand there with my mouth hanging open in shock would be nice. Always an attractive look, that. It's like working for two Cybils, I just never know what's coming.

Stupidity

Yeah, so, uh, work. I've been there a while now, about nine months. And I really enjoy what I'm doing and I'm starting to know things that I need to know and didn't, so I thought things were going really well. Not perfect, but well.

I thought that until Friday afternoon, when I was hauled in to speak with the administrator. Apparently, I suck. Badly. No, that's not fair. He was nice, I just need to improve things. Some of which I understand, and some I don't. For instance, I need to work on anticipating what my bosses will need, and also make sure I ask questions and don't make assumptions. ...isn't that a slight contradiction? What if I think I'm anticipating their needs but actually I'm assuming what their needs will be and jesus christ on crutch, I'm screwed.

So my self esteem has taken a beating. Like most people, I take criticism personally. And yes, I will obviously do my best to do better and learn from it and someday I'll be grateful to have learned about this big, gaping whole in my abilities, but right now? It sucks.

And that inner voice? Holy crap, is she having a field day with this. You know how some people are just dumb? I used to work with this guy, and he just couldn't get things right. Ever. I realize I'm not exactly genius material, but I didn't think I was stupid. That inner voice though, she does. And she hasn't hesitated to let me know it. What if I can't do better? What if this is it, this is the best I can do and it's so far below good enough that it's surprising I can eat soup without choking to death on the spoon?

On top of that, is stress. It's just me here, holding up the household. The boys, the mortgage, the student loans, all of that, on me. If I were fired (pleasejesusdon'tfireme), I have no one to fall back on. No one to even help me in an emergency. No pressure, but don't fuck it up.

Deep breath. I'm allowing myself the weekend to sulk and pout and feel sorry for myself in general. By Sunday night I have to man up (excuse the expression) and get over it. I have changes to make and they will be made. In the meantime, I'm drowning my sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry's Creme Brulee because nothing says pity party like fat thighs.

No one would fear the Dread Pirate Wesley

I like my new job. Honestly. I'm learning a lot, I'm in a field I've been interested in since I was in high school, I'm being challenged. Yea challenge, right?

But there are days, like today, when it makes me think of the movie the Princess Bride. You know where Wesley is describing his time with the Dread Pirate Roberts to Buttercup, in the fireswamp? (Why yes, I have watched that movie a few times, why do you ask?) And the Dread Pirate Roberts would tell him every night, Good job today Wesley, sleep well, I'll likely kill you in the morning?

I kinda picture my bosses thinking that at me. Thinking it very loudly when I do something mind numbingly stupid like not proofreading enough. Or just generally stupid like not being able to remember the specifics on one file out of 30 that we sent out maybe two, three weeks ago. Or even the there's-just-no-winning stupid, when I can either make a correction I think the document needs (and it turns out wrong) or not make it (and I am told, oh so politely, that I really need to check for these things and fix them). Urg.

So, I like it. But there are some days when I wish they would just get it over with and kill me already.

The bitch in me

I've started to write about this several times, but then I sound like a bitch, more than normal, and scrap it.

But, I'm trying again. I shall persevere in the face of bitchiness.

There's this woman at work. I'll call her Happy. She's very nice. Extremely nice. So unbelievably freaking nice, it makes me grumpy. She's the type that always has an answer to your question, even when it was asked to someone else. Across the office. She brings in food a couple of times a week. And makes certain you know it's there. And waits patiently for you to take some. And praise her. And then she will happily give you the recipe, in detail, and explain how she made it better from the original recipe and you don't have to actually make it because "she's the baker of the office."

If she notices your printer is running low on paper (she checks)(often), she will bring you a ream. While loudly telling the office in general that "My goodness, your printer is hungry! I just brought you paper yesterday!" because she is so very nice.

I'm not sure how to describe her properly, without sounding like a complete bitch, which I realize I can be. But she drives me insane! It's very nice she bakes, but don't stare at me, each time, until I take your offerings. They haven't been that tasty, I wasn't really in the mood for them, and? You didn't really "fix" the recipe. You made it not good. And the paper. Jesus Christ on stick. When I run out of paper, I'll get some. I didn't ask you to get it, and if you can't do it without soliciting praise from the entire office, it's not really helpful at all.

But I think it's the nosiness that drives me nuts the most. She absolutely has to be involved, whether it's general chit-chat or work related. She jumps right in, offering advice. Or stating how she experienced that too, but it was harder/better/etc. She knows all, no matter what it relates to.

Just a small favor

I have a favor to ask.

You see, today is a holiday. No school, no daycare. Which means two kids, home, alone. Boy 1 and boy 2. Together, alone. Destroying my house, while I am at work.

So, I was wondering, if you see two wild heathens running down the road, beating the tar out of each other, would you mind hollering at them for me? Just a simple "knock it off!" would be greatly appreciated.

Either that, or I return the favor and send them to play at Bob's. And not allow them to return until 5:30.

It was bound to happen

I've discovered the first negative at my job. There is a bathroom talker.

As many bathroom issues as I have, I still like to pretend that I am a lady, and ladies do not actually have bathroom issues. They don't even use the bathroom. They think it's a room full of baths, and not wanting to mess up their hair they never actually go in one. Ahem.

Yesterday, I made my way to the bathroom and glanced over to see another lady, D, coming my way. Since that's the only thing in that direction, I knew she was headed to the bathroom too. I hate, hate, hate having someone in the bathroom with me (see above insane thinking), but there was no subtle way to change direction. *sigh* Into the bathroom we headed. Into the two stalls, side by side.

Okay, I think, no biggie. Just pretend you're alone. And then it happened. She talked.

"So, how's it going?"

Oh, um, well. It's going well. (she means work, right? not my progress in the stall, right?)

"How do you like working with M?"

Oh, um, she's very nice.

"Do you find it hard to do X? I always found that challenging."

Oh, um, it's been challenging. Since it's all new. And a challenge. (please don't talk please don't talk please don't talk)

And so on. The entire time.

Note to self: Next time, pretend to just need to wash your hands and return promptly to desk.

Unreasonable reasons

I've been asked to come in a third time for this job. I can't imagine what else they could ask me, but we'll see. Perhaps we're down to the nitty gritty questions: what's your favorite color? is it called a bar-b-que or a grill? or a grille?

In the mean time, I've managed to come up with 8,532,685 reasons why I shouldn't/can't/don't want to leave here. Mainly? New = scary. Welcome to my comfort zone, where I am prepared to stay the rest of my lonely, lonely life...



Huh. Also? Lonely. And horny.

Indecision

I've lived here almost two years now. Pretty much the whole time, I've been kinda sorta looking for a job that's closer. I've had a couple of interviews, but nothings come of them. Part of the problem is that I have no idea what I want to do when I grow up. The other problem seems to be that while I don't make much money, I'm overpaid for most similar positions around here. One of the risks of going from a larger city area to a smaller one, the pay scales down.

I have, this morning, a final interview. And I think I've talked myself out of wanting the job.

It's closer, but only about 15 minutes closer. Instead of 45 minutes on the highway, it would 30 minutes on back roads, meaning longer in the winter. I believe it would be about the same pay, so no big jump there. And the major hangup? This particular office supports a program through a state contract. The contract expires in 2010, meaning there would be no job if the state doesn't renew. I'm not sure what the actual consensus is on the state spending the money on this program, and I'm not sure I'm willing to rest my supporting the boys, and my mortgage, on it.

But what if I take it and then keep looking? That would get me closer, but I'd feel bad to do that to them. It's a large, international company, so hiring even for a relatively simple position such as this one has taken a while. It took them almost a month and a half to get approval to fill the position, not even creating a new one.