Caterwauling

Celebration.

Moments that used to be Memorexed or Kodaked (god, how I hate when nouns are turned into verbs!), are now Blogged. This is such a Blog moment!

Lab Rat is waiting for Puppeteer to permit her into her office chambers … she’s about to hand in her resignation. Word is spreading like wildfire about my own resignation, and now the rumor mill is buzzing about Lab Rat’s. At least Puppeteer’s sister was swift enough to connect the two resignations. The PB called Lori this a.m. to ask if she knew about my resignation and to report that she hears that Lab Rat’s is imminent. Lori said she heard about mine from James, and that she knew nothing about Lab Rat. Lori immediately called me to talk about the call and to say, very mysteriously, that she doesn’t want to be in the middle. What the hell did that mean?

At any rate, Lab Rat has the most stressed-out look on her face. We chatted briefly and commented how sad it is that even though she’s done nothing wrong, it’s still miserable to have to go in to see the Puppeteer, because you never know what to expect or how you will be put down this time. Further, I am sitting here, tense as all hell, too, because I’m sure I’m gonna get hauled in anyway to hear about what a disappointment I am. Whatever. I already gave my resignation, so I will have to make sure that they are legally bound to pay me up till the date I gave (June 21) if they want me to leave. But they won’t ask me to leave, because they will want to milk me for every last minute of work that they can possibly get. Too bad I can’t sue them if/when they make the next 30 days hellish for me, because I am certain that it’s gonna happen. 😉

Resignation.

With my courage summoned, I bounced into F/OM’s office today and asked to chat. He closed and locked the door behind me. I asked if I could return to consulting for the agency. He pondered it and said anything is possible, but my position is so integral to the agency that if I can’t be full-time, then he is going to have to post the position. I said I understood and that after racking my brain for two weeks, I have finally decided that it is time for me to leave the agency.

While he kept a stoic face, I think I really did throw him for a loop. I told him I felt bad, especially since Brat just left. I learned that starting today, F/OM is interviewing for Brat’s replacement. We joked and he had to give me a little guilt trip, of course. I told him I felt really bad and that the worst part of me leaving is knowing that he’s now lost half of his top staff. I had to laugh with him though, because I said that now he’s going to have to supervise the Incoherent Twit. Oh, if only I had a camera to capture the disgusted look on his face when I said that!

I didn’t hand over my letter right away. I really wanted to talk to him first, to give him time and opportunity to change my mind. He did try, of course, but it wasn’t enough of a sell. I said that I really appreciated the incredible opportunity that I was given … to be given an executive position there when I was in a dead-end specialist job at Easter Seals at the time of the offer. However, I had to tell him, I realized in a big way that I can’t make it at that agency, at least, not right now. Maybe in five or 10 years, particularly if the regime has changed, I’d love to come back. I reminded him of an old conversation between us, when I told him that I would love to work strictly for the Kinship Institute when it is up and running. I said I’d love to write articles for the trade journal that we are developing for it, and I’d give anything to keep doing projects for the agency on an as-needed basis. F/OM said he’d love to hand me a project here and there, if he can. (read: I’m sure the Puppeteer will never want to hear from me again. F/OM did not insinuate that, but it’s been in the back of my head … they HATE people who defect from their precious agency.)

He did say that he would greatly miss my writing abilities, and my project management skills. He said I have a way of really pulling things together and pulling off the impossible. We laughed about how I turn proposals in at the last possible minute, yet he did commend me for being incredibly efficient with all of the work he delegates to me. I told him I would kill to take him with me … he’s the best supervisor I’ve had. He said he wasn’t all that great, that he couldn’t give me the time and guidance I really should have received from him. I said that he is probably the only reason that I’ve stayed, and he’s one of the limited individuals whom I will miss.

Hell, since I was resigning, I laid it on the line. I said that I would have loved to have survived at that agency, but I’m tired of wondering what the hell I’m going to get into trouble for not doing, because I’ve spent time on a bunch of other projects that were also a priority. I said I can’t prioritize when everything’s a priority, and that I think we need to grow the programs and initiatives we already have in place before we start doing all these random programs. I cited the Larimer School … Puppeteer wants us to move into that, and I said that should be our priority, because it’s our new headquarters, and we can grow from there, but I am confounded by the fact that I am charged with finding money for all kinds of other stuff (like a transitional living program for people newly released from jail) when that isn’t even our specialty and we still need money for Larimer, too. F/OM said that with our decreasing caseload, we have to find a way to thrive, and that means expanding our client base. I said I thought it was nuts, nonetheless.

And furthermore (oh, I was on a roll), I said I am capable of so much, and I’ve started to do some really great things there, but they didn’t give me the resources I needed to do my job effectively. I said that with no office and the poor excuse for a staff that was thrust upon me, I was set up to fail. Oooh, he looked like I slapped him! After he recoiled a bit, he said that I’m getting my office in two weeks, so that’s something to anticipate. I said whatever and that with Incoherent Twit, I felt like I failed her as a supervisor. I said that they’re so big on moving employees “to the next level,” (Lab Rat is having a seizure as she’s reading these words! Nyaaaah!!!!), and I failed the Twit ‘cuz I just couldn’t drag her to a level where she isn’t ready to be. And I said that she didn’t help me when I tried to help her, so maybe I am a lousy supervisor, but particularly, I’m a lousy supervisor for her. I told him to get someone tough … someone who can take the Puppeteer’s crap as well as someone who can put the Twit in her place.

F/OM said ya just have to get used to the Puppeteer, that you can’t take it so seriously and personally, that she barks a lot but at the end of a day, it’s just a job and you can only do so much. I said that I do not have to get used to such treatment as is dished out there, and that this treatment has stripped me of, well, me. I said I was always happy and proud and really together before I got there. Now, the Dawn that I remember has been lost, and I need to find her, wherever she is. Is she in Virginia? Probably not, but that’s where I am going to start looking.

F/OM asked me if this is what I really want, to go to Virginia and start all over again and leave everything behind. I said of course I’m not sure, but I am very big on Fate. I explained that the day I was suspended and pissed off as all hell at the agency, Shawn called and asked me to interview. That was amazing, that on a day that I was at my wits’ end, that call would come through. I said I had to give the job and city a shot … something led me down that path, and frankly, I’m tired of swimming against the current at Two Strikes. I said I felt like I’d never fit in to that place.

He said that he knew I wasn’t a good fit, but he was hoping that after I saw all the wonderful things I had accomplished and was capable of doing and all the good work that I was cranking out, that I would naturally see myself as becoming a good fit. But he had to concede that sometimes, once you’re in a job six months or so, you realize that you might not have made the right decision for yourself. I admitted that it was in October that I was not only unhappy, but I knew that happiness was completely out of reach. However, I said I knew that I had to leave Easter Seals, and I am glad I made the move, but it’s unfortunate that this job that seemed so promising, is now killing my spirit.

I told him how bad morale really is, and that my own morale is beyond saving. He said morale is down because the agency’s going through some growing pains, that everyone’s working at 110 percent capacity and that we’re all getting burned out. I said that wasn’t necessarily true, that I like hard work but certain people, both above and below us, make things too hard to want to keep fighting. I told him I am just plain old tired and that a change of scenery is in order.

He said that I obviously just wanted to talk and not resign, because I didn’t have a letter ready. So, lo and behold, I pulled my letter out of the stack of crap that was in my hand. He read it and sighed. He said he accepted the resignation and was glad I’d given my 30 days’ notice so that I can have my vacation paid out. (woo hoo! I have two full weeks coming to me!!!)

We had a wonderful conversation afterward, about him and his future (questionable though it may be) with the agency. He’s been there seven years, and frankly, he said that once Larimer is done, in two years, he wants to move on. But he also said that Puppeteer is looking at new opportunities for him, to keep him challenged but to remove him from the day-to-day that keeps holding him back from accomplishing something. He said that she really wants to make the Foundation into something big … to put him in charge of the Foundation and to give him a small staff. I had to laugh … again, the Foundation is something that falls under me presently, and I don’t have the energy or the time to get it off the ground. I’m glad if F/OM will be able to dedicate himself to it full-time, if that’s the path he’s meant to have. But I also know the Puppeteer … she changes her mind quicker than I change my scandalous underwear. Anything can happen, and it might not be what he wants it to be.

At any rate, that was my resignation talk. I felt good afterward. Lab Rat said that’s because that’s the weight of the world being loosened from my shoulders. I made a gesture like I was flicking the Pretentious Bitch off my shoulder, and we got a good laugh out of that.

Lori told me that James told her about my resignation. Funny, but I saw James about six times today, and he never even said hello to me, let alone acknowledge my news. Like I said above, they resent people who escape from there.

James caught me after-hours and asked me to read and RFP and determine our eligibility. He said, very snottily, that Puppeteer wanted me to do the proposal, but now that I’ve announced that I am leaving, I am to have the Twit take the lead on it. LOL!!! Christ, federal proposals are a disaster to put together, and to have her writing 40 pages about a topic about which she knows nothing, HAH!!! Something tells me that they might be taking me up on my offer of consulting after all!!!

Regression.

Spent way too much time with myself yesterday. That’s not always a good thing, because I can be terrible company for someone who is looking for lightness and optimism. It’s scary when both sides of my Gemini personality are feeling the same: one side is in raging, pissed-off-bitch mode and the other side is in depressed-as-a-motherfucker mode.

Am making a lovely little dinner of tarragon chicken and rice … this for the girl who’s had no appetite for two weeks. But I’ve been subsisting on the occasional piece of red meat (no, don’t get your hopes up … the meat I’ve been ingesting isn’t throbbing with life!), so at least I’m gettin’ my protein, one way or another, at any rate!

Nothing to say, no song lyrics to plagiarize. … Wow. I guess I’m too worn out to care about anything today. Have spent way too many days hating myself for all that I am not and all I can never be. Does this feeling have to happen to me every summer? God, I was better off last June, when I thought I was at my lowest. It’s just sad how I am always searching for that little shred of happiness and sunlight to which I can cling for dear life. Maybe that’s my problem (well, one of them, anyway!) … a ray of hope is such an odd occurrence in my life that it is immediately apparent to me when it appears, and I am loath to let it go without kicking and screaming, because I don’t know when or if another ray of light will pierce through the little black cloud that seemingly hangs over my head 24/7.

God, I need (to get) laid! (Cortana — I don’t partake in many Pittsburgh-isms, but you’ve got to let this one slide!!! I am not thinking about good grammar when I am in need of a warm body in my bed, okay?!?!) 😀

Migration.

The Blog’s got a new home! It’s on my paid site. (Thanks Lab Rat, for the technical assistance!)

That’s all I have to say. I’m in OK spirits (could be because I played hooky today). Also happy because, after paying “professionals” an insane amount of money to fix my computer (and they DID NOT complete the job), I fixed it myself today. Am tired but so damn proud of myself. 😀

God, I need laid.

Discovery.

Always wondered what would happen if the blog came up on the wrong persons’ computer screens. I guess my dumb ass, even though I didn’t give out the direct link, should never have mentioned what I am doing in my spare time, especially, not where I am doing it anyway. lol. My apologies to those I’ve hurt or offended, whether through my words or my actions. Seems to be a pattern in my life, so please bear with me. 😉

Weighed pros and cons to staying here. Pros: Love working with F/OM. Cons: Semantics and Hypocrisy. And of course, the cons outweigh the pros, when you look at it that way!

Rolled in around 9:30 a.m. today. I figure, if the CEO’s gonna be late to every all-staff meeting (like yesterday), they have no right to go ballistic on people who come in after 9:15 every day — they’ve created the culture and continue to reinforce it.

Have to figure out how to have a pie bake-off/sale in conjunction with the block party in June. It took all the strength in me to not look at F/OM and tell him I don’t fucking care because I have no desire to be there, or here, for that matter.

🙂

One other issue: Puppeteer corrected the draft of our newsletter (which Incoherent Twit coordinated and I ripped apart). She sent it with a note to F/OM that it’s okay to go back to the printer, “With NUMEROUS Changes.” Pretentious Bitch.

Another day at the pleasure palace.

12 May 02

Got the computer back. Modem now lets me access AOL … and nothing else! Can’t get onto the Internet from any ISP, so I am gonna rant and rant and rant here in Simple Text, email it to myself at work, and post it from there.

Today’s Mindset: confounded. Mother’s Day … “Coulda Woulda Shoulda,” the “Sex and the City” episode, comes to mind. Hmmm. So many decisions have been thrown upon me during the past year (May 12 and June 23, both in 2001, come to mind). Perhaps that was one of the better ones that I made (although last week’s “Six Feet Under” sobered me, with all those children around Nate). Maybe. Time will tell. At least that was a decision that I made for myself, instead of letting other people’s feelings (and/or lack thereof) guide my future.

And as far as YKW …

Am trying really hard to make sense of everything. Reality came along this weekend and beat me with its ugly stick. I’ve been dying without access to the blog, but it has given me time to digest the bizarre series of events that have catapulted me into this emotional cesspool where I am currently wading. Of course, I almost feel like I am stepping into Denial, and maybe if I hope and wish and wonder enough, it will change the course of events, and maybe I can navigate this sinking ship to shore.

Yeah, right.

There’s also a certain sense of relief, although it isn’t showing yet, that will break through the water’s surface when I am ready to cling to that life preserver. But I’m not completely ready to heal yet … I need to tread for awhile. I’m okay with sitting here, picking at the scab and making it bleed a little more, for now. I have got to drain my body of the bad blood in order for fresh and healthy blood to fill my being once again. Like Lab Rat always says, ya can’t bandage a wound that requires stitches, and for me, I know that I must let the hurt, anger, disappointment and despair ruin me completely before I can rebuild my foundation from scratch. One thing about me, my heart will beat itself to death rather than squelch my myriad of feelings and pretend to move on.

The good thing is, I didn’t build my hopes and dreams upon this working out. More than anything, I wanted (and maybe needed) things to work with him, but I was always prepared to move on with my life without him, if that indeed had to be the case. And after months of hoping that would not be necessary, I see now, more clearly than ever, that it is the only way to save myself, because he isn’t going to be the one to do it for me.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again … his loss.

“I have climbed the highest mountain

I have sailed across the sea

I have wrestled with my demons

And woke up with only me

I have been around the block

Three times, maybe four

And I think I deserve just a little more.”

Melissa Etheridge — “I Want to Be in Love”

I didn’t find it where I was looking. Now, I’m not as dumb as I seem … I really thought it was right there, where I expected it to be. Who was I to know that it was possibly a mirage?

Something bizarre just occurred to me. What if, on that cold September night, I had just let Colin take me home, like he wanted to? What if YKW did not offer to save the day and remove me from the situation? I don’t feel like I would have been any better off, leaving with Colin, to be perfectly honest. Much as I liked him and enjoyed spending time with him, I didn’t want him because to me, he was a little boy who wasn’t ready for a grown-up woman like me. Personally, I figured he was just fascinated with screwing someone equally or more experienced sexually, and let’s say it in unison: all he wanted was a good time. That’s usually what I was in it for, but I’ve been around that block more times than Melissa Etheridge in the above song. Anyway, YKW knew that I was looking for more than that. And when we hooked up, how was I to know that was all he wanted, when he knew that I needed more?

“I never wanted anything

The way I wanted you that night

My love transcended space and time.”

— Bif Naked, “Anything” —

I don’t hate him. I never can and I never will. How could I, when I really thought there was more between us than, in actuality, it seems there was? But what was it that I could have done, or shouldn’t have done, to make him want me more? Was it all a joke? (I hate it when the paranoia sets in … it’s like high school all over again, when the boy you had a crush on doesn’t want you, and you temporarily lose your self-worth, based solely upon his opinion of you.) Lesser people than me have found and maintaned relationships … why am I unable to have the people I want, yet have a movie-theater line of people waiting for me, whom I don’t want? Why the vicious circle?

Was joking with my friend that, too, the love triangle has become kidney-shaped. SE is still in love with me. I am still in love with YKW. And, it seems, YKW is in love with YKW. 🙂 (oh, that was so cruel!)

“I remember how I spent

All my energy and time

With affected conversation

Trying to pry inside your mind

You are as beautiful as truth

And as empty as a shell

And I came to you one night

And you made me feel like hell.”

— Indigo Girls, “Left Me a Fool” —

SE has been so good to me, for as long as we have known each other. So good. Hell, he treats me exactly the way I treat YKW. I hate this feeling, of being so fucking blind and stupid. But really, I don’t believe I was blind. I saw something there in his eyes, for the entire time we have known each other. What I don’t believe is that he was playing games with me … I think he really did feel something. But I also think he’s a man who was forced into early adulthood, and now that he’s older and more settled, he’s clinging the youth that he never truly had, and while on one hand I am someone wild and untamed, I am also someone who is getting older as well and who would like a little bit of consistency and groundedness. Again, I’m not mad at him for that, but regardless, I got hurt, and even if it was never his intention to hurt me, well, he did.

As Leslie said, I am his lesson to learn. I gave him my heart, and I would give him my life, if only he wanted me to. As I was discussing with my friend yesterday, it is my hope that someday (sooner would be better than later), he will realize that all he ever wanted or needed could have been his, and he didn’t take advantage. It is my friend’s hope that I will be already be married to somebody fabulous when that day arrives.

“And it hurts to want everything

And nothing at the same time

I want what’s yours

And I want what’s mine

I want you

But I’m not giving in this time.

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to everything

I thought I knew

You were the one I loved

The one thing that I tried to hold on to.”

— Michelle Branch, “Goodbye to You” —

At the very least, I kissed him again. And again. But this time, and maybe I might have realized it at the time (or maybe I didn’t), I was kissing him goodbye. But again with the mixed signals, first he said “don’t get carried away,” and in next breath, he put his lips upon mine. I hate it that I liked it … I hate it that I told him that I missed him, that I like kissing him, that I wanted for us to kiss. I hate it that I, to this very minute, wish the story had a different ending.

But what I do not hate is that I laid it on the line … that I let him know that I wanted him. Perhaps I should regret it, but I don’t … I deserve to have the things I want in life, and I can’t get them without trying. I tried. And I failed. I can live with that … what I couldn’t live with would be harboring the feelings for fear of rejection. Further, I am so proud of myself for saying that I didn’t want to kiss him because I was afraid I couldn’t stop. So damn clever.

Was I really rejected, though? Did I really lose anything? I don’t know. Will he ever come around? Will I be around to see it happen? I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he was with me. But the words and actions really didn’t back it up. He penetrated me so deeply, in so many ways. Yet I will always wonder if I ever really got through to him.

“You know I’d still hold you, if I could

It’s hard not to try and change

Try to change your mind

I’m a pillar of salt

I want you to understand

This is the last time

The last time I ever look behind.”

— Indigo Girls, “Walk Away” —

Here’s an old post that was trapped on my computer while it was in the shop:

4 May 2002

Heavy drinking usually renders most individuals ineffective for at least a day. Then you have me, someone who can only achieve clarity when imbibing and subsequently nursing a hangover.

I’d told Lab Rat that yesterday was a perfect waste of scandalous underwear. She said that it is never wasted unless it’s a day you have your period. 😉

At happy hour last night, I am pretty certain I had about eight drinks in the first 90 minutes. Then I bought a beer that got me through the rest of the evening. The majority of the crew moved from our Strip District haunt to an obscure place in Brentwood, but I decided to skip that. I did call Dave V. to see what they were doing, and Beth got on and told me that they were going to end up at a bar in Homestead and that I should call back in an hour to get directions to it, because she knew I was too drunk to drive all the way to Brownsville Road, not knowing where Acapulco Joe’s was. I said she could call me when they were ready to head toward Sandcastle. Truly, I did want to hang out at home, sober up, and go out again, but I wasn’t even awake long enough to know if they tried to call or not. 😉

Point of Clarity #1:

I am disgusted by the Land of Mixed Signals from a certain someone. I want him and probably will for a long time to come, but waiting for him to send a clear, consistent message to me is like waiting for Incoherent Twit to speak a properly conjugated sentence. (Update: for those of you who remember my post that she wants to develop/teach a public speaking class, would you FUCKING believe that our Training Department, which has not returned any of Lab Rat’s or my calls/emails in nine weeks, met with her to pursue the idea further?!?! TWICE!!!!!!)

Ahem.

Regarding Point of Clarity #1, I have to be sappy and quote a Bon Jovi song:

“I can’t write a love song

The way I feel today

And I can’t sing a song of hope

I’ve got nothing to say

Life is feeling kind of strange

Since you went away

I send this song to you

Wherever you are

As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms.”

— Bon Jovi, “My Guitar Lies Bleeding in My Arms” —

I don’t blame him for anything … maybe he realized our friendship is good and should have remained untouched. I blame myself for allowing myself to feel so safe and happy when I am near him. I hate myself for not feeling that good when he isn’t in close proximity.

On a final Bon Jovi note, “If you don’t love me, lie to me/’cause baby you’re the one thing I’d believe/let it all fall down around us, if that’s what’s meant to be/right now if you can’t love me baby, lie to me.”

Point of Clarity #2:

I hate my employer. It was while lunching yesterday with Victor, a new case aide (and a 23-year-old Italian hottie!) that I realized how bloody jaded I am. He’s so excited to be working with the kids, and he sees that these kids have nobody in their lives to give them the helping hand that our agency does. The corporate bullshit doesn’t affect him the way it does the leadership team — we don’t have those intimate moments with our clients that allow us to realize the difference we are capable of making. No, those of us who are confined to meetings and paperwork don’t get those points of inspiration. Granted, I have no desire whatsoever to hang out with the kids and families, because I’d tell them that I’ve had to struggle too, and you just deal with it and quit expecting handouts from the world. But once in awhile, a story like the one Victor told me (where the child said, “You’re my best friend. And you’re my only friend.”) seeps into my arid veins. That alone would have sent me sailing above the sea of lies and deceit upon which our agency operates, and it would have made me want to work even harder. Absent that, I am ineffective.

Point of Clarity #2B:

Why on earth is my employer gonna force me to take a grammar class that will cost them $125 for my seat alone, when they can hand me the $125 and let me take a vacation day while all the illiterates are asking why bring/brang/brung isn’t a proper conjugate? Further, hand me $500 and I will teach the fucking class for them. You know, I used to hate the Pittsburgh accent … now I long to hear the drawl and the stupid colloquial phrases, which at least loosely translate into English. While everyone’s in their grammar class, I need a course on Ebonics instead, so I can figure out what the fuck certain coworkers are saying to me. (It must be noted that a majority of my colleagues speak perfectly well; it’s the younger ones who flaunt their street vocabulary, thinking they’re so cool, when all it shows is their utter unprofessionalism.) And while I have no problem telling my staff or others to shape up and act right in the workplace, I do not touch anything remotely related to things indigenous to people of color. I’d be tossed out on my head. (Like that would be a bad thing.)

Point of Clarity #3:

I need to move out of this town. No further explanation required.

Point of Clarity #4:

Monkey Boy and I have exchanged some thought-provoking emails, encouraging each other to not feel so alone in the world and to not dwell upon those with whom we feel/felt were “the one” for each of us. I realize that I have an inability to practice what I preach. Granted, I have been doing just fine as a swingin’ single party gal for 27 years (28 at the end of this month!), but it would certainly be nice to have someone hold me and kiss away my problems at the end of the day. I know a relationship can’t make you feel whole, but I’d like to give it a try instead of just wondering about it.

Point of Clarity #5:

Pizza and ice cream are the best fucking comfort foods ever invented!

Pink’s “Don’t Let Me Get Me” video is on VH1. That’s the song for the day. I might have to pick up her CD when I go out today. If only I could pick up a new life while I’m at it. …

One final note:

“I can’t take any more of this

I want to come apart

And dig myself a little hole

Inside your precious heart

Oooh, and it’s always raining in my head

Forget all the things I should have said.”

— Staind, “Epiphany” —

Oh, forgot to say, I turned in the fucking proposal … got it into the Airborne Express drop box at Webster Hall in Oakland at 6:58 p.m., and it was picked up at 7:30. Only got yelled at a little bit by The Puppeteer, who had to admit that it was a fucking masterpiece. 😉

“In prophecy

All good things must end.

So take care my love, my friend

And keep it precious.”

— Melissa Etheridge, “Keep it Precious” —

Interesting day so far. Thought the song lyric was appropriate as we send Brat off, from his last day at The Wasteland, and also for the fact that I spoke with the HR director at Shawn’s firm and confirmed that I will take the job. (Whether I will go through with it or not, however, is a whole ‘nother issue!)

Don’t have much more to write. Brat liked the gift/card I got him on behalf of the agency. Am certain he will like my personal gift, if he doesn’t have one or one like it already. The card is WAY sentimental and will probably overwhelm him, but it’s how I feel. Will wait till night’s end to give him my gift/card. No sense bringing a sad little cloud over the planned happy hour at Shootz. Accounting Dawn’s going to come, so I am most excited to have her there.

Am certain I will need to blog some more, when I get access to a computer again. ugh … this SUCKS, not being able to afford to get the damn thing out of the shop!

Told F/OM more about the position in DC, and told him I had to make the decision today. He said my decision should be no. But then some shit happened with Charolette today, and that only confirmed that leaving here is the only way to survive … for all of us.

Here’s to an impending night of mass consumption of adult beverages!!!

Still.so.motherfucking.tired.

Going into Hour 14 at work. Broke down crying around 4:30 as everyone was going home and I was essentially told to get this fucking proposal done or else. Am in mass editing phase; will give up before 10 p.m., as there’s a boatload to do tomorrow on it too that requires assistance and of course nobody’s here. Almost gave F/OM my resignation when he came up to me and I asked to postpone the project till we found a funder with a less complicated RFP. Yeah, right. Puppetteer commanded this proposal, and nobody gives a shit if this job is putting you in your grave.

Just had a quick exchange with Puppeteer’s husband. He was so fucking pleasant! Usually grunts and goes about his crabby way. I must state that Puppeteer’s away at a conference, and has been for a few days. No wonder he’s so fucking chipper.

It’s nearing Brat’s last day here. Gonna miss him. Happy for him in his new venture; saddened because I’m losing one of my (few) dearest friends in this place. Life will be so different for me on Monday … less colorful, more still, less full. I don’t know if he can ever understand the impact he has had across the board in my life.

Damn it, I am sentimental. I hope he misses me even half as much as I will miss having him in my everyday life.

So.God.Damn.Tired.

Didn’t work last night. Tried, but couldn’t. Feel like shit today … got in at 6:30 a.m. This proposal will never be done in time. Never. The way I see it, I get bitched out for turning in a complete project at the last minute … so how much worse can I get treated for not turning it in at all? Although this is a million-dollar project (over five years) … I can see where Puppetteer will be pissed if/when I miss the deadline!

Oh, my aching body. Feels like war has been waged. Who knew that emotional exhaustion would manifest itself so physically?

Gotta shop for a going-away gift for Brat, one of these days. Hopefully tonight, definitely tomorrow, if not. What to get? Something unique, something only I would think of. Oh, it hurts to think … I see that I ended the last sentence with a preposition, and I’m too worn out to give a shit. Yikes!

Hang in there, Lab Rat. Saw your post. Today is a new day. 😉