Caterwauling

Motherfuck this fucked-up workplace.

Today, Brat, CTL and I got hauled into F/OM’s office because we were “caught” smoking at the corner. Jesus H.

Now, this is not a new thing, for us to smoke together. Smoking is our favorite pastime, and that we can do it collectively, on occasion, all the better. But then James walked past us this morning and tried to make light of the fact that basically, we shouldn’t be doing it. Whatever.

So poor F/OM (yes, I feel sorry for him) had to waste a half hour of his time, reminding us of the policy that nobody is allowed to take breaks, and that if we wanna smoke, we have to do it during our lunch half-hour, which must occur between 11:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. Brat sat there absolutely silently throughout the duration of the meeting. I was silent for awhile, but of course I exploded. Said that everyone else takes their little prayer breaks to get through their day, but the rest of us who happen to cope with our day by having a smoke break are persecuted. I said that people will probably go and smoke in their cars, which I can’t because my lease is five lots away from our building.

I was so pissed. CTL stated his peace, too, that he doesn’t take a lunch break and instead takes a couple of smoke breaks during the day. We do not get paid for a half hour every day; we should get to do with it what we want. I totally agreed, because I don’t take a lunch and frankly, Brat only last week started taking a lunch break. Further, we’re good performers, we stay late, and we’re here, getting our shit done. And CTL pointed out that our breaks last all of about five minutes.

I kept glancing at Brat … he was seething. He laughed every time I went off on a rant, but that was about the only sign that he wasn’t about to blow a gasket on us. CTL stayed behind and chatted further with F/OM. We talked later about that side conversation — CTL said that if that’s the only reason they can find to fire him, fine.

My personal opinion is that we are so accustomed to getting bitch-slapped with stupid shit that this doesn’t matter, that this too shall pass. I get mad that they’re always criticizing my work (didn’t do this the way they wanted, didn’t do enough of that, shouldn’t have done that, blah blah blah), but to intervene into my personal time is just a line you do not want to cross with me.

CTL told F/OM on the side that he is not going to quit smoking just because this stupid agency disapproves of smokers. I told F/OM right in front of them that we have about 25 smokers, and it’s a shame that those of us who don’t spend half the day out there are being reamed out. F/OM pointed out that “as the leadership of the organization” (gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!! do I have to keep hearing this shit?!?!) that we have to set the example. I told CTL late today that I do set an example of going out twice a day for five fucking minutes each.

F/OM recognizes that casework staff, who travel, can smoke whenever they damn well please, and we’d never know about it. But it is those of us who are chained to the office who are under surveillance. He said he’s gonna talk to HR about this, but he can’t promise any accommodations. We don’t want accommodations; we want to be left alone.

I was a good girl and waited until after hours to smoke. I walked over to Sheridan-Kirkwood and got my beloved car, where I smoked 2 cigarettes. And CTL and I went out a few minutes ago for 2 more. CTL informed me that Brat was out there at 1 p.m., during one of our scheduled break times, having a smoke. I don’t think he even punched out for it. LOL CTL said that he knows Brat is furious but that he won’t be deterred. CTL is going to smoke during work hours across the street, behind National City Bank.

Sad, isn’t this?

I think I’ll schedule myself out of the office more. Fuck this crap.

Wobin says I had more independence at age 8 than I do at nearly 28. She said they continually treat us like babies, and pick on us because we look and behave differently than the upper echelon.

I remember when I was new, this shit came up at a director’s meeting, how it was such a disgrace that our people were around the corner, sneaking smoke breaks (we cannot smoke in front of the building). But when I piped in, “I smoke, and I go around the corner with the others,” they shut up. Fast. Now that I’m out of the upper echelon, now suddenly the issue has risen again.

I emailed Shawn to see what their smoking policy was. It was, and I quote, “We don’t care when you smoke. No one here rules with an iron fist at all. All I ask is that you let me know before you leave to have a smoke, just so

I know where you are, if I need you.”

I’d told him that his words wouldn’t exactly make or break my decision, but rather that I was looking to enlighten the workplace here. Oh, my daily report/time analysis was a hoot … I emailed to F/OM that I spent 20 minutes on this, an hour on that, and five hours brooding and sulking about the smoking travesty. I told him what Shawn said. And I ranted some more.

This place is a mess. Props to Charolette for her assessment that they hire fuck-ups, and for her desire to find a job where the fuck-ups will be the ones who clean her office after she leaves for the day!

Assholes. Assholes. Assholes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Damn it. I wrote Jeff’s name, and he surfaced last night, for the second time since I dumped his sorry ass.

He first contacted me after another girl dumped him. Now he’s lost his job and asked me to call him. Fuck that. It was always all about him. He never even knew that I wrote poetry, never knew a damn thing about me other than what I tasted like. (although that wasn’t a bad thing!) Much as I could use a hot, sweaty lay right now, I just don’t want to deal with him anymore. It’s not like we were ever friends … why does he seem to think I want to hear from him?

SB is the same way. Dumped his messed-up ass in ’97, yet lately, I’ve been treated to a barrage of emails from him, under the guise of asking career advice. He’s a big baby with depression problems, and from what I remember, the woes of the world were everyone’s fault but his. Further, I can’t help him in his career, because he doesn’t want help. He wants to see me, to make it work this time, to not feel so alone in this world. I can’t blame him there … it’s easy to think that you can fall back into a relationship with someone, and I should be honored that someone thinks of me in that way. It shows that once people step out of my circle for a little while, they realize how incredible a person I am!!!

But will that happen with you-know-who? The clock is ticking … and once I get into the car to drive to DC to unpack my boxes, I don’t plan to turn into a pillar of salt (or, for that matter, have whiplash as I’m craning my head to look back).

Leslie says that for you-know-who, I am his lesson to learn. As I have been with Jeff and SB. I don’t need to take a lesson out of this situation … I know who I am and where I stand. CR and CH were my lessons (I’m still nursing the psychological concussion from the latter).

At any rate, I am late for work (haven’t even showered yet, and still have to sit through all the Fort Pitt traffic mess), so I’d better run!

Welcome, Monkey Boy! Thanks for the encouragement on your blog. Your words were just what I needed.

Looks like I need to return the favor today! You say you have no love left. But that is transient … you will be surprised how deeply that well runs, particularly when you reach the point when you think the well has gone dry. There’s a teeny, tiny bit of hope left in there somewhere, and while you’re not looking, it will regenerate until the well is full again.

Everybody says that when you stop looking for love, it magically comes to you. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been “not looking” for about six months now, so where the hell is it?!?! lol I’m in my “upper” (sigh) 20s, which is not old by any means, but sometimes it feels that way, especially when your younger friends are having more success in love. What I am hoping that means is that by the time Cupid finally finds our doors, we will get a better quality partner who will stick around for the long run, in a way that the others had not, up until that point. (Are you outside, trying to flag Cupid down with a butterfly net? Oh, wait … that’s just me!)

This is fairly optimistic of me, considering my last few posts. But you said yourself that no one is replacable, and that those who know us now are taking advantage of how wonderful is it to know us, right? You’re intelligent and insightful (at least, in your posts you are! I don’t know you outside of those.) 😉 At any rate, what we can hope for is that the friends we have (who know how damn cool we are) can help us in our search for peace. And if they can introduce us to someone of the opposite sex, even better!

Keep your chin up, and keep on keepin’ on. This, too, shall pass.

Just want to drop a quick note to direct my loyal readers (all two of them) to the blogs of Charolette Sterner and Lab Rat. Charolette and I just enjoyed a free seven-course dinner together at Victoria Hall in honor of the 90th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. We hung out, drank, and kvetched about the workplace. I feel bad ‘cuz if all goes according to plan, Lab Rat and I are leavin’ town, while Charolette is just stepping into a promotion at the same place. But at least she always has us to vent to, ‘cuz frankly, who are we gonna tell!!! Anyway, check out the blogs!!!

“The sun has kissed your face

Your tears in my hair

You say it’s time to go, my friend

You feel it in the air

Like the moon upon the water

Gives diamonds to the sea

And I pray that when the snow is gone

You’ll return to me

Through this bitter, bitter cold

I always thought that I’d have you to hold me

Hold me through the storm

And keep me warm

Through this bitter, bitter cold.”

— Tara MacLean, “In the Wings” —

“What are we doing here

Naked on the floor

‘Cause I want more.”

— Tara MacLean, “More” —

“And though you never will be mine

I will live to know

That you have touched me

Once upon a time.”

— Tara MacLean, “For You” —

“If you could see me now

I wonder what you’d say

Would you turn to smile at me

Would you turn away

…

And you will never know until you’re

Standing in my shoes

Just how much you can love someone

And how much you can lose

And if I could make you turn around

And see how we were then

Just one look into my eyes

You’d fall in love again

If you could see me now.”

— Tara MacLean, “If You Could” —

“Walking along on this highway of shame

Tied to the tracks, expecting a train

So much to lose, no one to blame

But me.

That’s me.”

— Tara MacLean, “That’s Me” —

“Oh, funny how

We spent this time waiting around

It’s a lie

Everything you felt till now.

…

Same place I’ve always been

Just lost on these roads again

Just as I got near the end

I keep falling in the holes you left in me.”

— Tara MacLean, “Jericho” —

“Do I stay and do I fight

Is it wrong when nothing’s right, oh

Is it just the closet light

I leave on for you.

Oh leaves they fall, they go

So far sometimes

Do I blame the wind

Or the tree that let them go

Or do I

Wave goodbye

Settling.”

— Tara MacLean, “Settling” —

I have to begin with a friendly reminder to myself that this is a public blog. References must be blurred to protect the guilty.

That said, I learned something that disturbed me. I mean, I always knew the day would come, and I’ve had a sneaking suspicion for the past week or two that something was up. Not real sure why the feeling was haunting me … I just kinda have been realizing that what was meant to be, suddenly may not.

A rumor I heard confirmed it — he did not. And that’s fine, if it’s true. At my moment of enlightenment, I just had to run from the immediate situation. Not cry, just be alone. Because quite honestly, nobody can help me through this one.

Today I was reminded of when I was dating Jeff … when I would run into the person I really wanted, I would stare him down, searching his eyes for sadness, for desperation, for forgiveness. And I could be mistaken, but suddenly the tables seemed turned. He searched my eyes in seemingly the same manner. And I could barely look at him. Perhaps I was hallucinating … he always did have a special way of looking at me. And it was only a couple of seconds. Please, please let this not be happening.

Moving away might put physical distance between us, but he’s too deeply embedded in my heart to forget about him any time soon. I wondered if a recent change in my life would bring him around again (it might have brought him an inch closer, but that’s about all). So now that I’m really gearing up for this 250-mile relocation effort, I wondered again if that would be what spurred him into not letting me go. I don’t think, at this point, that anything he could say or do could make me stay, but it would sure as hell make an impact.

But should the rumor prove to be true, then he’ll never come around. Unless … she’s just my replacement, the one who will never be able to live up to me.

Am I a dreamer?

I was telling Lab Rat that a part of me views this move as a natural progression of my life, while another part of me sees it as a perfect opportunity to start over. She pointed out that sometimes, we have to make a new start in order to progress.

Will my new start be without him? Will I be easy for him to forget? Or do I just keep on living my life, until I run into him again? I know he loves me, or something close to it. And I keep holding that close to me at night, like a beloved security blanket. But when can I let go of the illusion and curl up again with him instead? And how do I deal with it if I’m replaceable? Can’t he at least wait until I go?!?!

Anita is driving me CRAZY!!! So is the Incoherent Twit. Can’t they both just shut the hell up and do some thinking on their own? Do I look like “AskJeeves.com”?!?!

I’m pissed. I just wrote a mammoth, slightly intellectual blog, and it’s all gone. Down the shitter. Fuck you, Macintosh OS 8.6 for crashing on me just as I hit “post & publish.” Damn you to hell!!!

Anyway, I will give a shorter, less interesting post. The Incoherent Twit got an A on her final paper for her advertising class. I read one page and got a migraine, which incapacitated me from reading till page 16. She told me not to edit it (why would I edit it, when that would result in her getting a better grade?). I was feeling pity for this professor till IT bragged about her stupid grade.

That led me to rant about professors who let students with substandard efforts and abilities to coast through their classes, with no real guidance or support. Perhaps it’s a tad hypocritical on my part (god knows I missed 85 percent of my classes and I breezed by with high grades; further, I tossed term papers together in three days or less and got As as well). However, educators do a real disservice by passing students who turn in incoherent bullshit, and to give her an A on that paper was just a sacrilige. Bad teacher! Bad, bad!!!

The real injustice occurs when these kids end up working for people like me, who have a low tolerance for poor efforts. The Doc has told me I’m too much of a perfectionist and that I have to allow for deficiencies in the Incoherent Twit’s writing and verbal ability, because she grew up in the ‘hood and didn’t have the educational opportunities that other children might have had. Guess what, sugar, I went to public school just like most other Americans, and my grammar is perfect (or damn near it!). I should not have to allow someone who was hired as a writer for my department to be able to crank out the waste that she produces. And the Incoherent Twit is so fucking proud of everything she does, it’s just sickening.

IT graduated college with a 3.6 GPA, which impressed the hell out of The Doc. But I have always wondered if her professors had let her slide, because I don’t know if she learned much of anything at college, because I find myself trying to teach her simple skills that anyone who graduated with a B.A. in journalism should possess. (I should know; I have the same degree in the same major.) Is her new professor being as lax as her previous ones?

This says nothing of the abnormally high standard to which I myself am held at work. I am expected to produce stellar work, and I give them nothing less. Well, I give them less when I have to have IT work on projects alongside me … after all, I must allow for “deficiencies.” (i.e., excrement is fine from her, but all my Ts must be crossed or I hear about it for weeks.)

Anyway, this post is nowhere near as good as the last, but I’m gonna try hitting “post & publish” anyway. Here’s to hoping I don’t lose THIS version. Guys, allow for some “deficiencies” okay?

Today has actually been a bearable day at work, so far. Imagine that! F/OM thanked me and complimented me for pulling that fabulous proposal out of my behind. (well, not in so many words, but you get the idea.) I almost feel bad that I will likely submit my resignation within the next two weeks. 🙁

What I will miss: gossip sessions with B. and D. (in the hallway where we sit), making fun of the Incoherent Twit with just about anybody who will listen, my group of “best friends” (SF, BF, DC, KH, SW … we do it to make fun of the Incoherent Twit and HER best friend), and most of all, my smoking and kvetching breaks with the boys, Brat and the self-proclaimed “Cheap Taiwanese Labor.” (I shall refer to him as CTL from now on.)

It was kinda sweet … I spoke briefly about my impending journey and potential new job, and Brat looked at me intensely and said, “So you’re really going to do this?” I said it was looking more and more likely that it was definitely going to happen. I had told him last Sunday, the day I landed the interview, but I guess he didn’t realize how much of a possibility this really is. I looked at him and CTL and I told them that they’d better come down to visit. They both smiled at me, and my heart was so full … they have really become so special to me. I believe everything happens for a reason, and I’ve been struggling with what kind of joke a mythical higher being has been playing on me with this job. Perhaps the reason I landed at ASCI was to meet the people who would get me through. I just hope their support continues long after I walk through the door of the agency for the final time, because I’ve come to depend on it.

So sentimental already, and nothing has even happened. But what I am trying to do is savor the moments while they last. Alexandria is only a few hours away … Lab Rat and I will just have to establish a terrific bachelorette pad, so people will want to come and visit us! God knows we have about four beds, between the two of us. Although I’d much rather prefer the type of guest who stays in MY bed! (preferably male, at any rate!)

Mighty Mouse saved the day, and what thanks do/will I get? Worked my tail off (wait, nope … it’s still there, damn it. How can I not have a smaller behind when I work my ass off?!?!) Ahem. At any rate, spent two glorious days literally throwing together a 30-plus-page proposal to the City. We’d better get that fucking $45K, for all the effort I put into it. Besides, I’d like to leave on a high note. ..