Didn't do too bad caloriewise today. May have gone over my limit again, but if I did it's only super minor =]
I don't have all that much to write about tonight - shock horror, I know that's not like me at all, right?! - but I think it's primarily because I'm so tired. If you've been reading my blog for a while you'll know I'm nearly always tired, even when I'm not restricting particularly hard (or, even the times when I was eating normally), and I very rarely sleep "well". So I'm not surprised but it's still frustrating as hell to be checking your clock until nearly 4 in the morning waiting to fall asleep. I *should* go to the doctor, but even when I tried prescription sleeping pills they did nothing but make me feel hungover in the morning.
I should also probably go to the doctor for some depression meds, but I'm one of those people who refuses to go see a medical professional until I absolutely have to. I like to live by the "if I ignore it long enough, it'll go away" approach. Which yes, I realize is wrong. I think part of it is that, I feel self conscious about going to the doctor and having to explain how I feel and WHY I feel the way I do. I want to say that the way I feel is just "situational" depression, and everything will be better when I find a job (or when I'm skinny, or when I have a boyfriend, or when I'm rich and famous, et al.) But even as I say it, I know I'm kidding myself. I've been depressed to one degree or another since I was a child, forchrissakes. But, I can't be bothered.
Also, it's like admitting I have a problem. Wheras not having to take medication means I'm not "clinically" depressed. I'm undiagnosed, so it doesn't count. I Realize I sound like an idiot, but I don't really care.
There I go rambling, right after I say I have nothing to talk about =] At least I'm consistent!
Anyway, work today was... more of the same. Irritating and depressing. And something malfunctioned with my phone so as soon as I hung up a call another one came RIGHT through - we're talking, I haven't even let go of the receiver yet - four times in a row. I hadn't even finished dealing with the previous ones before I was getting more.
And then of course my manager was all "So, how're you finding it so far?" And I kind of sighed and fought the urge to roll my eyes with deep sarcasm. And I said I don't like taking calls. Which he already knows. But that so far the kinds of calls I've been taking have been easy ones, which I more or less know the answers to. I haven't had anybody shout at me yet or ask me shit I haven't heard of at ALL - I mean I don't know much but at least the things I've been getting asked I've heard of in passing, if that makes sense.
But that said, I still detest it. I would rather pull the covers over my head and bawl into my pillow every morning instead of going into work. And I find myself finding reasons to log my phone out of the queue to take calls. Today it was "Oh I can't find any record of taking that fraud test on my records. I'll do it again now just to be sure!"
Sigh.
My best friend S sent me through a link on our intranet to apply for a job in her building. Not in her team specifically, and it doesn't sound like the typical entry-level admin job I was doing before either, it seems to have more responsabilities. And the other bonus is the pay - it says minimum is £14,000 and max is around £17,800 (I'm currently on 16K and it would be a nightmare and a half to have to go back to a job that only pays minimum wage, which is around 10 grand or something ridiculous like that). So anyway, I was thinking of applying, since it's internal it links through to our HR accounts and it looks like there's no need to add in a CV/Resume or actual application, it just sends your records through to the people who are hiring for the position. But I also noticed that before it sends through to the other area for perusal, it is first sent to your manager to "approve."
Right, because when you hate your job so much you want to kill yourself half the time, and your boss doesn't care, you of course want to ask his fucking permission to apply for another job. Which is bullshit, but I don't care, I think I'll send it anyway. Worst case scenario they say no and my manager actually recognizes that I have no intention to stay where I am.
Soo, that's that.
The bonus is that I've got tomorrow off work. My manager was figuring out my hours (our hours are on a 4-week "month" and in that month we have to work our 140 hours that we're contracted to. Which means that instead of working 7 hours every day we have a little flexibility to work 6 and 8 or other variations, as long as we're on target at the end of the "month." When I started on the call centre, I was still clocking in down in my old team, but then moved up to this one and nobody had bothered to add the figures together yet, so I had no idea where I stood and my manager was under the impression that I was down by 23 hours. Pfft) and it turned out I had worked an extra 4 and a half hours. So, I booked the day off tomorrow to "use" those hours up. I have to work an extra two and a half to make up the rest of the day, but fuck, it's better than having to go in tomorrow right?
So tomorrow is a 500 calorie day I do believe. And I'm just generally going to try to stay as low as I can. The downside is that my aunt is home and although she's trying to be more sensible about her eating (not bingeing on sugary food or snacking throughout the day and night) she has a tendency to try and watch what I'm eating. Even in the same breath as telling me I need to lose weight and I'm fat. Which makes complete sense. But with 500 I've got room to play around.
SO, just one comment reply for now, that I'm aware of. If I missed something, smack me upside the head k?
Phantasmagorical Delusions: I tried your suggestion and microwaved the apples-cinnamon-splenda. Holy crap, it was beyond amazing. I felt like I should be feeling guilty and horrible and bingey but it totally wasn't which was awesommmme. I think that is going to become a staple in my diet =] And I might add it to my foodblog as a yummy tip because, wow everyone needs to try it!
Haha as to the weather, since I grew up in Canada, the notion of a -50 degree windchill is not at all alien to me - yet when it drops to 0 here I'm the first to start bitching and complaining about how cold I am. It makes no sense, but I can't help it haha. I could NEVER live somewhere where it was cold all the time, I'm just not built for it (half the time I'm shivering under a sweater in summer when the rest of my family is sweltering), but I couldn't live anywhere that had NO snow at all either. I'm just difficult to please lol.
Thanks for your comments on my other blog too, and I'm glad you like both of them =] It motivates me a little more to know someone is reading the foodblog and liking what I'm doing, so I'm more likely to add some more to it (the book is sitting in front of me as I type but I can't find the will or energy to type out more recipes just now haha.)
Anyway, I'm looking forward to reading more of your blog, past and future. All the best doll, if you ever want to talk just drop me a comment =]
Also, my other readers: you should check out her blog. It's real, it's a good read, and I find it genuinely interesting as well. And she writes about more than JUST ED/food issues, which is the type of blog I like to read... It's more.. substantial, y'know? I find them more interesting anyway!
Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts
Monday, 4 January 2010
Friday, 1 January 2010
Work Rant
Woot!
Ok before I get into the New Year shebang, I owe you all, yet another, work rant.
Basically, what happened is that I got metaphorically shat upon. If you've been following my blog recently you'll know that I was recently moved from a pension admin team to a pension helpdesk (read: call centre), and that it is so shit that my mood has plummetted something obscene.
The week between Christmas and New Year is notoriously slow for our company. Since we deal primarily with scheme administrators, employers and financial advisers and other finance companies/pension providers, there's always less work coming in, since most of those people tend to take the week off. Hell, I would be too if I had the holiday allowance left.
So, on Tuesday when I came in, my manager mentioned that, if it was really dead, they'd probably let people go home early. Which I was all for, since my sleep patterns have been even more fucked than usual (Monday night I got to sleep at 5 and my alarm went off at 7). So, come about 1:30, one of the other managers (the area I work in is a huge team divided into 4 subteams, all doing the same work but with different managers) came over to say that they're letting a few people go home early. One person from each subteam. So, my manger asks "So who wants to be the first one to go home?" and I put my hand up but so did everyone else.
Except for one dude, who said he "wasn't bothered about going home early" and didn't mind staying until the normal closing time. To be fair, my manager decided to draw a name randomly, like a fun raffle. And in the end, dude who didn't mind staying got to go home early. Sigh.
Then an hour later, it was time for the second person in teach team to go. Except, instead of drawing names and making it fair and random, my manager just stood up, got his stuff and said "Right ok, I'm off, see you tomorrow!"
What the shit.
So, me and two others had to stay until our usual finishing time.
Then Wednesday was more of the same. One of the other two guys who had to stay to our usual time were in, along with the two who went home early the day before, and one other guy who was off on Tuesday. So I figured, to make it fair, the two of us that had to stay the night before should be the two to go if they decided to let people go early.
At 2, because it was really quiet and there weren't enough calls coming in to keep everyone sufficiently busy, they decided to do it again. Instead of doing it randomly, my manager let the other guy who'd stayed the night before, go early. Since he stayed an hour later than me (the shift I work is usually 8:30 - 4, wheras this other dude always works until 5 instead and takes a longer lunch) he should get to go home early. Which I understood, but if our manager had let me go at 2 and other dude go at 3 then we'd both be in an equal boat and leaving exactly 2 hours early.
But, whatever. So he went. And then come 3, my manager came over and I thought, awesome I get to go home! But no. The dude who hadn't been in on Tuesday "wasn't feeling very well" so he got to go at 3 and I got to stay until my usual time.
I mean, I know I'm whining about the sake of one hour, but it was the fact that, if he was sick he should have gone home / not come in regardless of whether the company was letting people go home early. If he was that bad he shouldn't have come into the office to begin with. (paired with the fact that, when asked "What's up with him?" by another of my coworkers, my manager didn't say he was sick at all, just said "Oh he's just feeling old." Right.)
What annoyed me was the fact that, of everyone in our team who worked both Tuesday and Wednesday, I was the only one who didn't get to go home early.
Yesterday I *did* get to go home two hours early though so I'm slightly less irritated about it now. I came in at 8:30 and between then and 10:45 when I was told to go home, I only took two calls, it was SO boring. Of course, this wasn't just because I was the only one who'd had to work "late" the previous two days, everyone else in the team had the option to go at the same time but chose not to because they'd already made plans to meet friends when the office closed at 1.
In the end I was really glad they let me go home early because I needed it. Even though I left at 10:45, I didn't get home until nearly 12:30, and since I'd had like two hours of sleep that night I wanted to try to get a nap in before I started getting ready to go out.
Annyway, that was just my obligatory rantpost (I mean, what would my blog BE without rambling rantings right?), I'm going to do a separate post for New Year's Things =]
Ok before I get into the New Year shebang, I owe you all, yet another, work rant.
Basically, what happened is that I got metaphorically shat upon. If you've been following my blog recently you'll know that I was recently moved from a pension admin team to a pension helpdesk (read: call centre), and that it is so shit that my mood has plummetted something obscene.
The week between Christmas and New Year is notoriously slow for our company. Since we deal primarily with scheme administrators, employers and financial advisers and other finance companies/pension providers, there's always less work coming in, since most of those people tend to take the week off. Hell, I would be too if I had the holiday allowance left.
So, on Tuesday when I came in, my manager mentioned that, if it was really dead, they'd probably let people go home early. Which I was all for, since my sleep patterns have been even more fucked than usual (Monday night I got to sleep at 5 and my alarm went off at 7). So, come about 1:30, one of the other managers (the area I work in is a huge team divided into 4 subteams, all doing the same work but with different managers) came over to say that they're letting a few people go home early. One person from each subteam. So, my manger asks "So who wants to be the first one to go home?" and I put my hand up but so did everyone else.
Except for one dude, who said he "wasn't bothered about going home early" and didn't mind staying until the normal closing time. To be fair, my manager decided to draw a name randomly, like a fun raffle. And in the end, dude who didn't mind staying got to go home early. Sigh.
Then an hour later, it was time for the second person in teach team to go. Except, instead of drawing names and making it fair and random, my manager just stood up, got his stuff and said "Right ok, I'm off, see you tomorrow!"
What the shit.
So, me and two others had to stay until our usual finishing time.
Then Wednesday was more of the same. One of the other two guys who had to stay to our usual time were in, along with the two who went home early the day before, and one other guy who was off on Tuesday. So I figured, to make it fair, the two of us that had to stay the night before should be the two to go if they decided to let people go early.
At 2, because it was really quiet and there weren't enough calls coming in to keep everyone sufficiently busy, they decided to do it again. Instead of doing it randomly, my manager let the other guy who'd stayed the night before, go early. Since he stayed an hour later than me (the shift I work is usually 8:30 - 4, wheras this other dude always works until 5 instead and takes a longer lunch) he should get to go home early. Which I understood, but if our manager had let me go at 2 and other dude go at 3 then we'd both be in an equal boat and leaving exactly 2 hours early.
But, whatever. So he went. And then come 3, my manager came over and I thought, awesome I get to go home! But no. The dude who hadn't been in on Tuesday "wasn't feeling very well" so he got to go at 3 and I got to stay until my usual time.
I mean, I know I'm whining about the sake of one hour, but it was the fact that, if he was sick he should have gone home / not come in regardless of whether the company was letting people go home early. If he was that bad he shouldn't have come into the office to begin with. (paired with the fact that, when asked "What's up with him?" by another of my coworkers, my manager didn't say he was sick at all, just said "Oh he's just feeling old." Right.)
What annoyed me was the fact that, of everyone in our team who worked both Tuesday and Wednesday, I was the only one who didn't get to go home early.
Yesterday I *did* get to go home two hours early though so I'm slightly less irritated about it now. I came in at 8:30 and between then and 10:45 when I was told to go home, I only took two calls, it was SO boring. Of course, this wasn't just because I was the only one who'd had to work "late" the previous two days, everyone else in the team had the option to go at the same time but chose not to because they'd already made plans to meet friends when the office closed at 1.
In the end I was really glad they let me go home early because I needed it. Even though I left at 10:45, I didn't get home until nearly 12:30, and since I'd had like two hours of sleep that night I wanted to try to get a nap in before I started getting ready to go out.
Annyway, that was just my obligatory rantpost (I mean, what would my blog BE without rambling rantings right?), I'm going to do a separate post for New Year's Things =]
Friday, 25 December 2009
Merry Christmassss (or insert other holiday or nonholiday you celebrate here)
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Today's Christmas dinner didn't go too badly. Christmas is almost always a cheat day, so I'm trying not to feel guilty but damnit it's hard. I didn't eat too much, and most of it was vegetables (like carrots and brussel sprouts, and is it weird that I fucking LOVE sprouts, when they're cooked til they're soggy and barely need chewing and eaten with a lot of salt and basically no other nutritional value left?), but there were also mashed potatoes, one roast potato piece, one piece of roast parsnip, a little stuffing and a slice and a half of turkey crown. Dessert was ice cream, which only added about 80 calories on top. Everyone else was devouring Christmas pudding with tons of cream and brandy butter and thick ass custard, but just looking at it made me feel ill. Blech.
But. I have to do it all again tomorrow. I can't remember if I blogged about this in the past couple days but it completely slipped my mind today that my granny is doing Christmas dinner tomorrow at her house, since my aunt missed it today. So, we're talking the full works all over again. =/
And then Sunday my aunts and I are going out for a Christmas meal with some mutual friends (H and S2) and they booked this well before we went away but I completely fucking blanked. And then we're supposed to be going out for dinner again at this restaurant near home that I absolutely detest - all it has is fatty foods, even the two salads on the menu have a ton of shit in them, fuck - and I do not remember agreeing to this one but of course I'm obligated to go. I'm not even sure who is going but I think it's my aunt's work folks?
Then Friday is new year's eve and we're going out... New Year's Eve is also H's birthday, so we're supposed to be hitting town. Which means alcohol. Maybe I'll get so drunk on spirits (like, vodka and diet coke) that I'll be hungover for the rest of the weekend and therefore have an excuse to ditch the New Year's Meal Slash Sunday Dinner J is cooking for my grandparents to come over next Sunday? In either case, I'm starting ABC on Jan 1st, so it'll be a 500 day. I can get through a family dinner on a 500 day, I'm sure. And, plus my aunts know full well I'm trying to lose weight.
In fact my aunt actually criticized me over it while we were away. I was telling her I'm going to "start taking dieting very seriously come the new year and need to see how much cash I have so I can rejoin my gym and everything" and being really positive. I wanted to make it clear that I have a set "start date" as it were so come the new year when my aunts are suggesting ordering pizza or hitting McDonald's on the way home from the cinema, I can just say "dude no, I'm losing weight remember? I can't eat that and you know it" - kind of a means to pre-empt their interference with my plans to restart ABC.
But anyway, what she said to me was "Make sure you do because I don't want you to wind up like me. I kept putting it off and making excuses for gaining weight and just never went ahead and lost it and then realized, how the fuck did I Get so fat?"
And I was thinking, thanks for being supportive, fuck. But then I realized, that kind of criticism is EXACTLY what I need right now. Fuck complacency and apathy. Tell me I'm fat and I'll prove you wrong. Granted I haven't shifted the weight I gained in Canada, but it's not like I put on two stone and am trying to justify it. I've been trying to restrict but it's just been IMPOSSIBLE the past while. But at this point it's crystal clear that I'm "dieting" and "cutting back" and "losing weight." If anything else, the fact that I'm Maid of Honour for my sister's wedding in February 2011 is just extra motivation, on top of the fact that my aunt basically called me Fat.
Incidentally, before her surgery she took to nicknaming her belly fat. The top roll is called Ben and the lower stomach fat is Jemimah. While we were in Mexico, I was sitting on our balcony area in possibly the most unflattering pair of hipster jeans that always make my middle look bigger than they are (I packed the wrong pair in my haste =/) and she said "Look! You have a Ben bit too!"
Like, bitch just called me fat AND named my stomach. And expected me to laugh about it.
Fuck this bullshit. I'm upset and pissed off but I'm going to channel this emotion into DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
I can't get out of the meals coming up this week, but I *can* make those meals the only things I'm eating for the next several days. I'm going to try to restrict as far as I can on Wed-Thurs-Fri as well. Meaning, I'm planning on trying to fast but with Thursday's alcohol consumption my aunt will probably be on my case to eat something "substantial" before we go out. But hopefully I'll feel so shitty on Friday I won't be able to. That said, Friday is Day One of ABC. And fuckshit,I think I just miscounted my days because I thought above that Sunday is Day 2 but according to that, it's actually Day 3. Whatever, I'll do my best to stick to the calorie restrictions while humoring my family as best I can at dinner.
This post is more random and disjointed than usual and for that I apologise. As I was writing I kept remembering more things and getting more pissed off about them.
So, incidentally, MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I hope you've all had an awesome day and the Family Eating Events haven't been too stressful for you. I'm going to go hate myself, my life, and the people in it now.
Vee xox
(ps: I already mentioned this but it's worth saying again, that I'm on Facebook under Vee Seethrough if you want to add me =] Also, if you want to email correspondence or chat on MSN, drop me a comment here with your address or send me an email to xsnuffondigital@live.co.uk. Hope to hear from you soon dolls!)
Today's Christmas dinner didn't go too badly. Christmas is almost always a cheat day, so I'm trying not to feel guilty but damnit it's hard. I didn't eat too much, and most of it was vegetables (like carrots and brussel sprouts, and is it weird that I fucking LOVE sprouts, when they're cooked til they're soggy and barely need chewing and eaten with a lot of salt and basically no other nutritional value left?), but there were also mashed potatoes, one roast potato piece, one piece of roast parsnip, a little stuffing and a slice and a half of turkey crown. Dessert was ice cream, which only added about 80 calories on top. Everyone else was devouring Christmas pudding with tons of cream and brandy butter and thick ass custard, but just looking at it made me feel ill. Blech.
But. I have to do it all again tomorrow. I can't remember if I blogged about this in the past couple days but it completely slipped my mind today that my granny is doing Christmas dinner tomorrow at her house, since my aunt missed it today. So, we're talking the full works all over again. =/
And then Sunday my aunts and I are going out for a Christmas meal with some mutual friends (H and S2) and they booked this well before we went away but I completely fucking blanked. And then we're supposed to be going out for dinner again at this restaurant near home that I absolutely detest - all it has is fatty foods, even the two salads on the menu have a ton of shit in them, fuck - and I do not remember agreeing to this one but of course I'm obligated to go. I'm not even sure who is going but I think it's my aunt's work folks?
Then Friday is new year's eve and we're going out... New Year's Eve is also H's birthday, so we're supposed to be hitting town. Which means alcohol. Maybe I'll get so drunk on spirits (like, vodka and diet coke) that I'll be hungover for the rest of the weekend and therefore have an excuse to ditch the New Year's Meal Slash Sunday Dinner J is cooking for my grandparents to come over next Sunday? In either case, I'm starting ABC on Jan 1st, so it'll be a 500 day. I can get through a family dinner on a 500 day, I'm sure. And, plus my aunts know full well I'm trying to lose weight.
In fact my aunt actually criticized me over it while we were away. I was telling her I'm going to "start taking dieting very seriously come the new year and need to see how much cash I have so I can rejoin my gym and everything" and being really positive. I wanted to make it clear that I have a set "start date" as it were so come the new year when my aunts are suggesting ordering pizza or hitting McDonald's on the way home from the cinema, I can just say "dude no, I'm losing weight remember? I can't eat that and you know it" - kind of a means to pre-empt their interference with my plans to restart ABC.
But anyway, what she said to me was "Make sure you do because I don't want you to wind up like me. I kept putting it off and making excuses for gaining weight and just never went ahead and lost it and then realized, how the fuck did I Get so fat?"
And I was thinking, thanks for being supportive, fuck. But then I realized, that kind of criticism is EXACTLY what I need right now. Fuck complacency and apathy. Tell me I'm fat and I'll prove you wrong. Granted I haven't shifted the weight I gained in Canada, but it's not like I put on two stone and am trying to justify it. I've been trying to restrict but it's just been IMPOSSIBLE the past while. But at this point it's crystal clear that I'm "dieting" and "cutting back" and "losing weight." If anything else, the fact that I'm Maid of Honour for my sister's wedding in February 2011 is just extra motivation, on top of the fact that my aunt basically called me Fat.
Incidentally, before her surgery she took to nicknaming her belly fat. The top roll is called Ben and the lower stomach fat is Jemimah. While we were in Mexico, I was sitting on our balcony area in possibly the most unflattering pair of hipster jeans that always make my middle look bigger than they are (I packed the wrong pair in my haste =/) and she said "Look! You have a Ben bit too!"
Like, bitch just called me fat AND named my stomach. And expected me to laugh about it.
Fuck this bullshit. I'm upset and pissed off but I'm going to channel this emotion into DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
I can't get out of the meals coming up this week, but I *can* make those meals the only things I'm eating for the next several days. I'm going to try to restrict as far as I can on Wed-Thurs-Fri as well. Meaning, I'm planning on trying to fast but with Thursday's alcohol consumption my aunt will probably be on my case to eat something "substantial" before we go out. But hopefully I'll feel so shitty on Friday I won't be able to. That said, Friday is Day One of ABC. And fuckshit,I think I just miscounted my days because I thought above that Sunday is Day 2 but according to that, it's actually Day 3. Whatever, I'll do my best to stick to the calorie restrictions while humoring my family as best I can at dinner.
This post is more random and disjointed than usual and for that I apologise. As I was writing I kept remembering more things and getting more pissed off about them.
So, incidentally, MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I hope you've all had an awesome day and the Family Eating Events haven't been too stressful for you. I'm going to go hate myself, my life, and the people in it now.
Vee xox
(ps: I already mentioned this but it's worth saying again, that I'm on Facebook under Vee Seethrough if you want to add me =] Also, if you want to email correspondence or chat on MSN, drop me a comment here with your address or send me an email to xsnuffondigital@live.co.uk. Hope to hear from you soon dolls!)
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Dread
Holy Christ, I can't believe how on edge I am lately. I'm even pissing myself off at this point with my random catiness and whiplash inducing mood swings. The smallest things and irritating me and I'm trying not to let it show, but although nobody's said anything to me I'm pretty sure my bitchtasticness is at least a little apparent. And it's all because I'm so fucking stressed out and absolutely DREADING going back to work. I can't even find it in me to enjoy these last couple of days away, because it just feels like a ticking time bomb.
The sooner I find a new job, the better, I think. Which is more stress, but at least it's a means to an end and hopefully a job I don't despise to the point of depression and panic attacks.
Today was a day much like any other. Got up, breakfast with The Vacationers (a tiny scoop of scrambled eggs, two strips of bacon and a couple small breakfast sausages. I dread to even attempt the calorie counts here, fuck), lounging on a sun bed by the pool listening to loud music and reading (The Time-Traveller's Wife, in case anyone is wondering, and I just finished The Bible AKA Wasted). Quick buffet lunch that consisted of exactly six french fries and then some ice cream. Retired to my room to watch episodes of Gossip Girl and catch up - I don't smoke, Gossip Girl is my replacement addiction.
Which brings me to now. Bored and stressed out. All this nervous energy must be good for burning calories though, I'm always moving, fidgeting, I can not physically sit still, which is in turn keeping me awake which is the opposite of awesome but I don't sleep well anyway so it's not a major loss. I feel physically ill all the time right now. And I'm constantly tired, both from the lack of sleep and as a side effect of being so god damn down right now.
The laughable part is how this whole work fiasco has played out. My old manager, my old manager's-manager, my new manager, my new manager's-manager, and every single member of staff in my old team and new team know how much I hate this, how much it's affecting me and how down I am. But nobody cares. It's like I'm being penalized for being good at my job. All they're seeing is my numbers are awesome. The new area needs good numbers. Ergo, I move. But oh my Christ. Agh, I need to scream and punch and preferably stab something. Repeatedly. But I'm getting offtopic.
This whole thing feels like a huge step backwards. I've gone from having the highest work stats and productivity in my old team doing pension admin work... to not knowing a god damn thing. I'm a fish out of water. I'm supposed to be working on a call centre for group pension schemes. Taking calls from financial advisers, scheme administrators, employers, some plan holders. And answering their questions and sorting things out. But, I know absolutely fuck all about group pension schemes. I worked on group schemes when I first started with the company, but I was a glorified mail-girl. I sorted out incoming post for our scheme. I sent out confirmation letters and policy documents and the occasional forms. The scheme I worked on was a very sensitive one that was administered differently to every other scheme the company deals with. I know nothing about what I'm doing.
People call and ask questions and I do not have the slightest fucking clue. I've gone from being the best member of staff in my team, to the new girl who knows nothing. The only advantage I have over hiring a few temps from the agency, is that I know my way around the eight thousand systems we use to keep information and updates et al.
After my first week of training, I went to talk to my old manager and asked if there was any way I could be moved back. He's a great guy and is one of only two managers I've had that I've felt I can really talk to, who cares about his staff as people and not just numbers and stats. (Incidentally, I once worked for my new manager before for a couple of months. At the time, I had a review and he told me I'm great and the work I was doing was fantastic, but I wouldn't be able to get a raise because the document the company used to use to outline the eligibility for a pay rise basically said I'd need to get further training on a wider variety of admin work in order to get one. At the time all of our work was being sent to be processed in India and there was no admin work to train me on. Therefore, it was "sorry but you can't get a raise and it will be very difficult for you to get one in the near future." Fast forward, and this year under two different managers I've had four raises. So I'm not happy to be working him to start with. Fuck.)
Anyway, he said probably not as his hands are pretty much tied, but he'd speak to his manager and see what was what and post it to him hypothetically. A week later he told me that his manager wanted me to give it a couple of weeks and see if it would grow on me. A week, two weeks later I was still miserable, moreso even. So I spoke to him again and he said that his manager still wanted me to try, but he "didn't want it to get to the point where I was thinking about looking for another job." So I was honest and told him that, as things stood at that point, I would be looking for another job after Christmas. So he said he'd put the pressure on his manager and tell him this, as the company doesn't want to lose me altogether.
Then, my last day before coming here to Mexico, I went to say farewell to my old colleagues before heading off, and we spoke again. He said his manager said no, he hadn't been able to get anywhere - but if I was thinking of leaving he would "fight to keep me".
I'm sorry but, is that not what he was doing to begin with?
I'm just so irritated and annoyed and frustrated, it's such bullshit. When I go back I'll tell him point blank I'm applying for other work. I'm not expecting anything to happen, but you never know. Of course, even if they did move me back to where I was before, or even to another administrative area that isn't just callcentre work, it would then count against me next review time because I'm "inflexible" and "can't deal with change." (which is bullshit, in the four years I've worked for that company I've had no less than a dozen different managers. And every single time I've taken it in stride.)
But right now I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of a panic attack. I could burst into tears right now, would be quite happy in fact for my plane to crash on the way back from Mexico next week.
Add my food and weight issues on top of that, and I'm basically a walking cocktail for disaster right now.
Sorry for all the ranting, but I need to spill it out because if I don't I'm going to explode in a huge way. My regular blogging will probably be more interspersed with work ranting than usual for the forseeable future - just a heads up.
Love you all, and I hope you're doing well and hitting your goals. And that life in general is going better for you than it is for me right now.
Vee xox
The sooner I find a new job, the better, I think. Which is more stress, but at least it's a means to an end and hopefully a job I don't despise to the point of depression and panic attacks.
Today was a day much like any other. Got up, breakfast with The Vacationers (a tiny scoop of scrambled eggs, two strips of bacon and a couple small breakfast sausages. I dread to even attempt the calorie counts here, fuck), lounging on a sun bed by the pool listening to loud music and reading (The Time-Traveller's Wife, in case anyone is wondering, and I just finished The Bible AKA Wasted). Quick buffet lunch that consisted of exactly six french fries and then some ice cream. Retired to my room to watch episodes of Gossip Girl and catch up - I don't smoke, Gossip Girl is my replacement addiction.
Which brings me to now. Bored and stressed out. All this nervous energy must be good for burning calories though, I'm always moving, fidgeting, I can not physically sit still, which is in turn keeping me awake which is the opposite of awesome but I don't sleep well anyway so it's not a major loss. I feel physically ill all the time right now. And I'm constantly tired, both from the lack of sleep and as a side effect of being so god damn down right now.
The laughable part is how this whole work fiasco has played out. My old manager, my old manager's-manager, my new manager, my new manager's-manager, and every single member of staff in my old team and new team know how much I hate this, how much it's affecting me and how down I am. But nobody cares. It's like I'm being penalized for being good at my job. All they're seeing is my numbers are awesome. The new area needs good numbers. Ergo, I move. But oh my Christ. Agh, I need to scream and punch and preferably stab something. Repeatedly. But I'm getting offtopic.
This whole thing feels like a huge step backwards. I've gone from having the highest work stats and productivity in my old team doing pension admin work... to not knowing a god damn thing. I'm a fish out of water. I'm supposed to be working on a call centre for group pension schemes. Taking calls from financial advisers, scheme administrators, employers, some plan holders. And answering their questions and sorting things out. But, I know absolutely fuck all about group pension schemes. I worked on group schemes when I first started with the company, but I was a glorified mail-girl. I sorted out incoming post for our scheme. I sent out confirmation letters and policy documents and the occasional forms. The scheme I worked on was a very sensitive one that was administered differently to every other scheme the company deals with. I know nothing about what I'm doing.
People call and ask questions and I do not have the slightest fucking clue. I've gone from being the best member of staff in my team, to the new girl who knows nothing. The only advantage I have over hiring a few temps from the agency, is that I know my way around the eight thousand systems we use to keep information and updates et al.
After my first week of training, I went to talk to my old manager and asked if there was any way I could be moved back. He's a great guy and is one of only two managers I've had that I've felt I can really talk to, who cares about his staff as people and not just numbers and stats. (Incidentally, I once worked for my new manager before for a couple of months. At the time, I had a review and he told me I'm great and the work I was doing was fantastic, but I wouldn't be able to get a raise because the document the company used to use to outline the eligibility for a pay rise basically said I'd need to get further training on a wider variety of admin work in order to get one. At the time all of our work was being sent to be processed in India and there was no admin work to train me on. Therefore, it was "sorry but you can't get a raise and it will be very difficult for you to get one in the near future." Fast forward, and this year under two different managers I've had four raises. So I'm not happy to be working him to start with. Fuck.)
Anyway, he said probably not as his hands are pretty much tied, but he'd speak to his manager and see what was what and post it to him hypothetically. A week later he told me that his manager wanted me to give it a couple of weeks and see if it would grow on me. A week, two weeks later I was still miserable, moreso even. So I spoke to him again and he said that his manager still wanted me to try, but he "didn't want it to get to the point where I was thinking about looking for another job." So I was honest and told him that, as things stood at that point, I would be looking for another job after Christmas. So he said he'd put the pressure on his manager and tell him this, as the company doesn't want to lose me altogether.
Then, my last day before coming here to Mexico, I went to say farewell to my old colleagues before heading off, and we spoke again. He said his manager said no, he hadn't been able to get anywhere - but if I was thinking of leaving he would "fight to keep me".
I'm sorry but, is that not what he was doing to begin with?
I'm just so irritated and annoyed and frustrated, it's such bullshit. When I go back I'll tell him point blank I'm applying for other work. I'm not expecting anything to happen, but you never know. Of course, even if they did move me back to where I was before, or even to another administrative area that isn't just callcentre work, it would then count against me next review time because I'm "inflexible" and "can't deal with change." (which is bullshit, in the four years I've worked for that company I've had no less than a dozen different managers. And every single time I've taken it in stride.)
But right now I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of a panic attack. I could burst into tears right now, would be quite happy in fact for my plane to crash on the way back from Mexico next week.
Add my food and weight issues on top of that, and I'm basically a walking cocktail for disaster right now.
Sorry for all the ranting, but I need to spill it out because if I don't I'm going to explode in a huge way. My regular blogging will probably be more interspersed with work ranting than usual for the forseeable future - just a heads up.
Love you all, and I hope you're doing well and hitting your goals. And that life in general is going better for you than it is for me right now.
Vee xox
Friday, 8 May 2009
What the Fuck
Why can't I sleep?
I've had issues with my sleeping patterns for years. Then after my ex left me, I was lucky to sleep an hour a night. It's not that bad now, but I'm feeling so drained and worn out. Last night I went to bed before midnight (and then it took me at least two hours to get to sleep) and woke up no fewer than nine times that I can remember. And each time it took me forever to get back to sleep again.
After The Breakup, my doctor prescribed me a sleeping pill called Zopiclone, told me to try it for a week and see if it helped. It didn't. It made me really fucking tired but didn't help me actually fall asleep - and it definitely didn't make me STAY asleep. I just wound up feeling worse in the morning because on top of the not-sleeping, I was also feeling hungover, which my doctor told me is a side-effect of the medication.
I reported back and she basically told me that if it wasn't working, there was no sense in giving me another sleeping pill and dosing my body up with medication it doesn't need.
I still. Can't. Sleep.
It's driving me crazy. This week for some reason has been particularly bad, and I'm sitting at my desk at work typing this and I could quite easily pass out. Only, if I did pass out it would only be for ten minutes until something woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep again anyway.
I've had issues with my sleeping patterns for years. Then after my ex left me, I was lucky to sleep an hour a night. It's not that bad now, but I'm feeling so drained and worn out. Last night I went to bed before midnight (and then it took me at least two hours to get to sleep) and woke up no fewer than nine times that I can remember. And each time it took me forever to get back to sleep again.
After The Breakup, my doctor prescribed me a sleeping pill called Zopiclone, told me to try it for a week and see if it helped. It didn't. It made me really fucking tired but didn't help me actually fall asleep - and it definitely didn't make me STAY asleep. I just wound up feeling worse in the morning because on top of the not-sleeping, I was also feeling hungover, which my doctor told me is a side-effect of the medication.
I reported back and she basically told me that if it wasn't working, there was no sense in giving me another sleeping pill and dosing my body up with medication it doesn't need.
I still. Can't. Sleep.
It's driving me crazy. This week for some reason has been particularly bad, and I'm sitting at my desk at work typing this and I could quite easily pass out. Only, if I did pass out it would only be for ten minutes until something woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep again anyway.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Commence Operation: Door Slam
I'm a bitchy vindictive cunt but I do not care.
I came home, had a sandwich because my head was banging, and decided to go to bed for a nap to try to sleep it off.
Twenty minutes later I'm woken up when J comes up to use the bathroom. And BANGS the door. Our doors are such that, unless you turn the handle when you close them they bang and the metal clicks very loudly into place. When I first moved in, I did not realize that, and my aunts actually told me off and said "do you know how to TURN A HANDLE?" and since I realized hey, these doorknobs are fucking retarded, I have made every conscious effort to do so.
I'm always very careful and quiet when other people are asleep because I know how much it fucks me off when people wake me up for no good reason.
But nearly every single night, J bangs and clicks and talks loudly because SHE DOES NOT POSSESS AN INSIDE VOICE. Which is one of the reasons I sleep with earplugs (A: because certain people can not talk quieter than a shout and tend to do so very late when other people are trying to sleep and B: THE SNORING OH MY GOD).
It pisses me off all the time, but today REALLY got to me. Because here I am in bed, sick, with a fucking migraine shooting through the right side of my head, and BANGBANGCLICK! Two minutes later as she goes back downstairs BANGBANGCLICK! And I know damn well that if the situations were reversed she would have torn me a new one.
For. Fuck. Sakes.
So, Operation: Door Slam.
Myaunts leave Saturday morning so it probably doesn't matter, but J is off work tomorrow and as such does not have to get up at 7am like we usually do and I am REFUSING TO TURN A DOOR HANDLE for the next 24 hours. I could be a man about it and just say "so dude, do our "house rules" only apply to me or something?" but instead I want to piss her off so I can say "EXACTLY THANK YOU NOW FUCKING STOP IT"
...because I am a bitchy vindictive cunt. And also because I fucking feel like ruining someone's day now because mine has been thoroughly ruined.
I came home, had a sandwich because my head was banging, and decided to go to bed for a nap to try to sleep it off.
Twenty minutes later I'm woken up when J comes up to use the bathroom. And BANGS the door. Our doors are such that, unless you turn the handle when you close them they bang and the metal clicks very loudly into place. When I first moved in, I did not realize that, and my aunts actually told me off and said "do you know how to TURN A HANDLE?" and since I realized hey, these doorknobs are fucking retarded, I have made every conscious effort to do so.
I'm always very careful and quiet when other people are asleep because I know how much it fucks me off when people wake me up for no good reason.
But nearly every single night, J bangs and clicks and talks loudly because SHE DOES NOT POSSESS AN INSIDE VOICE. Which is one of the reasons I sleep with earplugs (A: because certain people can not talk quieter than a shout and tend to do so very late when other people are trying to sleep and B: THE SNORING OH MY GOD).
It pisses me off all the time, but today REALLY got to me. Because here I am in bed, sick, with a fucking migraine shooting through the right side of my head, and BANGBANGCLICK! Two minutes later as she goes back downstairs BANGBANGCLICK! And I know damn well that if the situations were reversed she would have torn me a new one.
For. Fuck. Sakes.
So, Operation: Door Slam.
Myaunts leave Saturday morning so it probably doesn't matter, but J is off work tomorrow and as such does not have to get up at 7am like we usually do and I am REFUSING TO TURN A DOOR HANDLE for the next 24 hours. I could be a man about it and just say "so dude, do our "house rules" only apply to me or something?" but instead I want to piss her off so I can say "EXACTLY THANK YOU NOW FUCKING STOP IT"
...because I am a bitchy vindictive cunt. And also because I fucking feel like ruining someone's day now because mine has been thoroughly ruined.
Headache!
Bleh.
First things first: no weigh in today. Or tomorrow, probably.
Last night, around 10-10:30ish I was on my computer chatting to a good friend of mine. I'm running out of abbreviations here. I can't call him J because J is my aunt's partner and I can't call him D because D is my best guyfriend back home. So we'll call him J2. And also the "J that has a penis"
So anyway. We were chatting and being generally bitchy and irritated with the world at large, which is kind of our thing. He may or may not be losing his job due to his regional managers being gay retards (he manages a store) and the fact that they do not like that he is a human being to his staff. GOD FORBID. THAT IS BAD. Although, as I told him last night:
"So basically you're maybe losing your job because you're NOT an asshole who shits on people for fun? Well no, technically you ARE an asshole, just not to peoples' faces. So that doesn't count."
Anyway, suddenly I started getting the odd random lights flashing in front of my eyes. I just call them "flashies" but I guess the current scientific/medical term is a "migraine aura" or something. My aunt gets them nearly every time she's about to get a migraine. I do not get them often at all. I think in the past 17++ years of suffering from migraines, I've had flashies maybe half a dozen times?
Anyway for me, "flashies" mean bad times. I only ever get them if I'm going to get a more horrendous migraine than usual, and you may think "horrendous" and "migraine" are synonyms already and using them together is redundant, and ordinarily you would be right. But migraine attacks preceded by flashies are, for me, something I would gladly trade for a night in the woods with a serial killer. Or maybe an embolism?
So, bad times, I popped some painkillers and went to bed. I've got a headache today but not a proper attack, and I keep getting the occasional flash of light on my periphery. Unfortunately, guess what, NO MIGRAINE MEDS STILL.
The migraine meds I take are not strictly prescription-only (I think they were back in Canada but here if you go to a pharmacy and ask for them and tell them you've had them before they'll give them to you) so I can buy them over the counter at any pharmacy. My doctor tells me to take them, refuses to give me a prescription for something stronger, so I just keep buying them. J (not to be confused with J2 With A Penis)'s doctor has given her a prescription for them, so she just gets it refilled that way.
Now, here's where it gets retarded.
My doctor didn't give me a prescription for THESE ones because the standard cost of prescriptions here is more expensive than standard-size of these anyway. My aunt's partner however has a prescription for the double-size boxes so she essentially gets twice as many pills for nearly the same cost.
Obviously my doctor is an idiot. The reason I don't have any migraine meds right now is because I can't afford to buy them, and also my aunt and J took my last half-dozen pills. Rockin'.
Speaking of my doctor. Two years ago I had some blood tests done. My ex had just left me for another woman and I'd had to move out of our home together and back in with my grandparents. And the stress of it all and the utter heartbreak and depression was taking a huge toll on me. I was being sick every day, had no appetite, couldn't sleep AT ALL, and this feeling of nausea and dizziness was constant, for months. Of course, my doctor assumed off the bat that of course I must be pregnant, even though I told her that A: I'm on the pill and B: my ex CAN NOT HAVE KIDS BECAUSE HIS BODY DOES NOT PRODUCE SPERM. But she was all "hey, anything can happen."
Of course, that came back negative so she decided to do a batch of blood tests to rule out anything scary causing my symptoms - and of course, did another pregnancy test to be sure (and for those weeks my grandmother pissed me off relentlessly by saying EVERY DAY "I think you're pregnant, you know" fuck off please?).
Things came back mostly okay, I didn't have any diseases and wasn't diabetic or anything. I personally thought maybe I'd be anaemic, because I had most of the signs, most specifically the CONSTANT FUCKING FATIGUE. I was surprised to find out my problem was the opposite - my RBC, Haemoglobin and Platelet counts were all marginally too HIGH rather than too low, which it was I was expecting to hear.
My doctor said they weren't so far out of whack as to be panicking or anything (even though all of these things can be signifiers of bigger problems) but said she'd redo the tests in 3 months to see if things are back to normal/have balanced out, or are the same - and to check things aren't getting worse.
I haven't been back to my doctor since, there isn't even a note on my file to say that I should go have tests done. When I called a couple months ago to order a repeat prescription of my BCP, there was nothing, and I'm fucking not about to invite myself over for a blood test that nobody knows anything about.
Wow, I'm rambling so much lately.
Anyway the actual point of this post is just that my head hurts and I want to go home but instead I am stuck at work and it is only 9:30 in the morning. I've been here for an hour but it feels like three. I'm leaving at 4:30 and it can not come fast enough. That's six hours from now. I might actually die of old age before I get to leave.
I'm such a drama queen, I know.
I didn't have time to find a container to put my blueberries in this morning, so instead I've brought a coffee SlimFast for lunch. And, this is probably gross and too much info, but everytime I have coffee slimfast shakes, it makes my pee smell like coffee. And not yummy sweet starbucks coffee either, like really horrible cheap 4p-a-jar instant freeze-dried coffee. From Netto.
First things first: no weigh in today. Or tomorrow, probably.
Last night, around 10-10:30ish I was on my computer chatting to a good friend of mine. I'm running out of abbreviations here. I can't call him J because J is my aunt's partner and I can't call him D because D is my best guyfriend back home. So we'll call him J2. And also the "J that has a penis"
So anyway. We were chatting and being generally bitchy and irritated with the world at large, which is kind of our thing. He may or may not be losing his job due to his regional managers being gay retards (he manages a store) and the fact that they do not like that he is a human being to his staff. GOD FORBID. THAT IS BAD. Although, as I told him last night:
"So basically you're maybe losing your job because you're NOT an asshole who shits on people for fun? Well no, technically you ARE an asshole, just not to peoples' faces. So that doesn't count."
Anyway, suddenly I started getting the odd random lights flashing in front of my eyes. I just call them "flashies" but I guess the current scientific/medical term is a "migraine aura" or something. My aunt gets them nearly every time she's about to get a migraine. I do not get them often at all. I think in the past 17++ years of suffering from migraines, I've had flashies maybe half a dozen times?
Anyway for me, "flashies" mean bad times. I only ever get them if I'm going to get a more horrendous migraine than usual, and you may think "horrendous" and "migraine" are synonyms already and using them together is redundant, and ordinarily you would be right. But migraine attacks preceded by flashies are, for me, something I would gladly trade for a night in the woods with a serial killer. Or maybe an embolism?
So, bad times, I popped some painkillers and went to bed. I've got a headache today but not a proper attack, and I keep getting the occasional flash of light on my periphery. Unfortunately, guess what, NO MIGRAINE MEDS STILL.
The migraine meds I take are not strictly prescription-only (I think they were back in Canada but here if you go to a pharmacy and ask for them and tell them you've had them before they'll give them to you) so I can buy them over the counter at any pharmacy. My doctor tells me to take them, refuses to give me a prescription for something stronger, so I just keep buying them. J (not to be confused with J2 With A Penis)'s doctor has given her a prescription for them, so she just gets it refilled that way.
Now, here's where it gets retarded.
My doctor didn't give me a prescription for THESE ones because the standard cost of prescriptions here is more expensive than standard-size of these anyway. My aunt's partner however has a prescription for the double-size boxes so she essentially gets twice as many pills for nearly the same cost.
Obviously my doctor is an idiot. The reason I don't have any migraine meds right now is because I can't afford to buy them, and also my aunt and J took my last half-dozen pills. Rockin'.
Speaking of my doctor. Two years ago I had some blood tests done. My ex had just left me for another woman and I'd had to move out of our home together and back in with my grandparents. And the stress of it all and the utter heartbreak and depression was taking a huge toll on me. I was being sick every day, had no appetite, couldn't sleep AT ALL, and this feeling of nausea and dizziness was constant, for months. Of course, my doctor assumed off the bat that of course I must be pregnant, even though I told her that A: I'm on the pill and B: my ex CAN NOT HAVE KIDS BECAUSE HIS BODY DOES NOT PRODUCE SPERM. But she was all "hey, anything can happen."
Of course, that came back negative so she decided to do a batch of blood tests to rule out anything scary causing my symptoms - and of course, did another pregnancy test to be sure (and for those weeks my grandmother pissed me off relentlessly by saying EVERY DAY "I think you're pregnant, you know" fuck off please?).
Things came back mostly okay, I didn't have any diseases and wasn't diabetic or anything. I personally thought maybe I'd be anaemic, because I had most of the signs, most specifically the CONSTANT FUCKING FATIGUE. I was surprised to find out my problem was the opposite - my RBC, Haemoglobin and Platelet counts were all marginally too HIGH rather than too low, which it was I was expecting to hear.
My doctor said they weren't so far out of whack as to be panicking or anything (even though all of these things can be signifiers of bigger problems) but said she'd redo the tests in 3 months to see if things are back to normal/have balanced out, or are the same - and to check things aren't getting worse.
I haven't been back to my doctor since, there isn't even a note on my file to say that I should go have tests done. When I called a couple months ago to order a repeat prescription of my BCP, there was nothing, and I'm fucking not about to invite myself over for a blood test that nobody knows anything about.
Wow, I'm rambling so much lately.
Anyway the actual point of this post is just that my head hurts and I want to go home but instead I am stuck at work and it is only 9:30 in the morning. I've been here for an hour but it feels like three. I'm leaving at 4:30 and it can not come fast enough. That's six hours from now. I might actually die of old age before I get to leave.
I'm such a drama queen, I know.
I didn't have time to find a container to put my blueberries in this morning, so instead I've brought a coffee SlimFast for lunch. And, this is probably gross and too much info, but everytime I have coffee slimfast shakes, it makes my pee smell like coffee. And not yummy sweet starbucks coffee either, like really horrible cheap 4p-a-jar instant freeze-dried coffee. From Netto.
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Six Days From Now
I will be 23 years old. Emphasis on the old.
And also my braces will be gone.
This blog entry needed to be made simply because I HATE MY BRACES.
Back in the day, as it were, I loved them. They hurt so much but the hurt was so good because by GOD they were working! The way my teeth would move overnight and from one week to the next was astonishing to me. They didn't rub like I was expecting them to - which is not to say that they didn't rub at all, oh no - and I very quickly got used to them.
At one point, I thought I might actually miss them when they were gone.
But let me tell you, right now I am THIS CLOSE to tearing the fucking things out of my face myself.
My teeth are straight and in-line and no actual moving has occurred for the past several weeks, except for twisting the roots of one canine into a slightly more upright position. So why the fuck are ALL OF THE MOLARS ON THE LEFT SIDE hurting so much?
I think I can blame that naan bread and hummus I had a few days ago. The bread must have wedged under my braces where it pressed into my gumline everytime I chewed, because the gums between two teeth back there have been very sore ever since. But today all the god damn teeth hurt, and I just want this metal out of my mouth, very very much.
I can't wait for them to be gone. This time on Tuesday I should hopefully be walking out of my orthodontist's office with a shiny (well, clear) new retainer over my naked teeth. It sounds so naughty, I can't wait.
I'm taking several painkillers and maybe one or two valerian root pills because I am a bag of stress when shit like this happens. My teeth are extremely sensitive to everything now, and the drilling to get the extra glue off is not going to be fun. Blech. At least I have an excuse to not eat for several days.
I'm so fed up, so I needed to have a bitch. That is all.
Six Days And Counting.
Vee xox
And also my braces will be gone.
This blog entry needed to be made simply because I HATE MY BRACES.
Back in the day, as it were, I loved them. They hurt so much but the hurt was so good because by GOD they were working! The way my teeth would move overnight and from one week to the next was astonishing to me. They didn't rub like I was expecting them to - which is not to say that they didn't rub at all, oh no - and I very quickly got used to them.
At one point, I thought I might actually miss them when they were gone.
But let me tell you, right now I am THIS CLOSE to tearing the fucking things out of my face myself.
My teeth are straight and in-line and no actual moving has occurred for the past several weeks, except for twisting the roots of one canine into a slightly more upright position. So why the fuck are ALL OF THE MOLARS ON THE LEFT SIDE hurting so much?
I think I can blame that naan bread and hummus I had a few days ago. The bread must have wedged under my braces where it pressed into my gumline everytime I chewed, because the gums between two teeth back there have been very sore ever since. But today all the god damn teeth hurt, and I just want this metal out of my mouth, very very much.
I can't wait for them to be gone. This time on Tuesday I should hopefully be walking out of my orthodontist's office with a shiny (well, clear) new retainer over my naked teeth. It sounds so naughty, I can't wait.
I'm taking several painkillers and maybe one or two valerian root pills because I am a bag of stress when shit like this happens. My teeth are extremely sensitive to everything now, and the drilling to get the extra glue off is not going to be fun. Blech. At least I have an excuse to not eat for several days.
I'm so fed up, so I needed to have a bitch. That is all.
Six Days And Counting.
Vee xox
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Shit
Yep. Back up 1lb to 144.4
Not surprised, I fully expected it. But still disappointed.
The worst part? My aunts appear to have arranged for proper "family, sit-down" dinners all this week until they go away. Tonight's culprit is Shepherd's Pie. Nobody told me, hey, you need to be home by x time because that is when we will have dinner ready. So, I was kind of planning to do overtime until maybe 7, come home and be all, "oh well you didn't tell me I had to be home at a certain time" so I wouldn't have to eat WITH them at least.
But, I just got into work and there is almost no actual WORK to speak of. An assload of people came in on overtime over the long weekend and basically got through everything, especially the easy stuff. All that seems to be left to do involves calling people to find out what they want before we can do it, and I hate doing phone work. If I wanted to be on the phones all day I would have gotten a job at a fucking call-centre (not that any of them actually exist in the UK anymore).
So, there is no overtime, which means I'll more than likely have to leave at 5 because there just isn't enough work to keep me going beyond that, which means I'll be home while dinner is cooked and served and if I don't finish it all then by GOD there has to be something wrong!
They drive me crazy sometimes. If I'm not laughing and peppy and full of energy, there must of course be something wrong. Case in point: Sunday night.
First we were watching The Ruins on dvd, and my aunt talked through the ENTIRE THING. Now this almost always irritates me because I, for one, would like to watch the movie without a fucking commentary every thirty seconds. Sometimes she is so bad for this that I want to explode. A few months ago while we were watching episodes of season 1 of Lost, it got to the point where I wasn't even concentrating on the tv anymore because I couldn't even hear what was going on, and was instead counting my head the number of seconds between her TALKING.
The longest she lasted in silence? 42 fucking seconds. Through THREE EPISODES OF LOST.
So, Sunday night she was doing the same thing and I was trying very hard not to get annoyed. At one point I had my head cocked and was almost squinting at the screen in concentration to hear what the fuck was going on over her voice. And she looked at me and said "what's wrong?" and I said "I can't hear anything" and she ignored me and kept talking.
At the end, once again, she kept jabbering. It also annoys me when people are watching a movie and say "such and such is going to happen. I TOLD YOU! Didn't I?" Her partner is worse than she is for that (J has a tendency to "predict" what is going to happen and then be all "TOLD YA!" even if it's a movie WE HAVE SEEN BEFORE and I just want to scream out THANKS FOR STATING THE OBVIOUS, CAPTAIN RETARDO! YOU DID NOT "TELL ME" SHIT!" Obviously, I am a very mean, mean person with serious rage issues. Moving swiftly on) So of course my aunt is all "this is going to happen. I can see it. Just watch! AHA SEE I TOLD YOU DIDN'T I?!" and I just kind of ignored her. And because I wasn't giggling in awe of her AMAZING film-predicting talent (even though she herself admitted "it kind of sucks how so many movies are so damn predictable these days, huh?" and figuring out the end is not, therefore, a huge act of talent or skill) she turned and said, in an almost offended tone "what's wrong with you?!"
When she says that to me, and especially in that tone, I want to scream. My aunt suffers from severe depression and possible bipolar disorder. When she's down, she's quiet, bitchy, and sleeps like every single hour that she isn't at work. But it's OKAY for her to not be the sunny life of the party, and that is what pisses me off: something must be WRONG if I am quiet or tired or not laughing my ass off every single second of every single day. But she doesn't even ASK "is something the matter?" in a tone that sounds caring or halfway interested. No, I get an abrupt "what's wrong with you!?!?!" instead.
WELL GEE SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY...
I'm not saying that something is always bothering me, but sometimes there IS something and I'm not going to talk about my feelings to somebody who acts like that.
In this case, the something wrong could have been summed up by "If you're not going to watch the motherfucking movie, then tell me and I will go watch it on my computer instead so you can sit and talk yourself in peace, because I, for one, would actually like to hear what the fuck is going on."
But it's perfectly okay for her to shush other people. If J is talking my aunt will hush shush shush shutupplease her until she is quiet. God forbid if I did.
Incidentally, that time with Lost? I even told her "you know, the longest you went without talking was 42 seconds" and she just laughed it off and said she was bored because she'd seen it before. She was the one who wanted to rewatch them. Otherwise, again, I'd have just watched the episodes on my computer in peace and silence.
God, I'm turning into a ranty old asshole of a woman aren't I?
And obviously, every little thing can really piss me off. But yeah, I was super anoyed the other night and I can't help myself.
I forgot what else I was actually going to write about here, so I'll leave off with that for now and write more as and when I can think of something else. In the meantime, I need to try to scrounge up some work to do =/.
Much love ladies, and I hope you're all having a better start to the week than I am. Four "family" meals together, and I'm home free for nearly two weeks. Bring it on.
Also, this time next week I will be sitting in my orthodontist's office and waiting for my braces to come off. Fuck yeah! I will also, however, be old. Fucking birthdays.
Starve on,
Vee xox
Not surprised, I fully expected it. But still disappointed.
The worst part? My aunts appear to have arranged for proper "family, sit-down" dinners all this week until they go away. Tonight's culprit is Shepherd's Pie. Nobody told me, hey, you need to be home by x time because that is when we will have dinner ready. So, I was kind of planning to do overtime until maybe 7, come home and be all, "oh well you didn't tell me I had to be home at a certain time" so I wouldn't have to eat WITH them at least.
But, I just got into work and there is almost no actual WORK to speak of. An assload of people came in on overtime over the long weekend and basically got through everything, especially the easy stuff. All that seems to be left to do involves calling people to find out what they want before we can do it, and I hate doing phone work. If I wanted to be on the phones all day I would have gotten a job at a fucking call-centre (not that any of them actually exist in the UK anymore).
So, there is no overtime, which means I'll more than likely have to leave at 5 because there just isn't enough work to keep me going beyond that, which means I'll be home while dinner is cooked and served and if I don't finish it all then by GOD there has to be something wrong!
They drive me crazy sometimes. If I'm not laughing and peppy and full of energy, there must of course be something wrong. Case in point: Sunday night.
First we were watching The Ruins on dvd, and my aunt talked through the ENTIRE THING. Now this almost always irritates me because I, for one, would like to watch the movie without a fucking commentary every thirty seconds. Sometimes she is so bad for this that I want to explode. A few months ago while we were watching episodes of season 1 of Lost, it got to the point where I wasn't even concentrating on the tv anymore because I couldn't even hear what was going on, and was instead counting my head the number of seconds between her TALKING.
The longest she lasted in silence? 42 fucking seconds. Through THREE EPISODES OF LOST.
So, Sunday night she was doing the same thing and I was trying very hard not to get annoyed. At one point I had my head cocked and was almost squinting at the screen in concentration to hear what the fuck was going on over her voice. And she looked at me and said "what's wrong?" and I said "I can't hear anything" and she ignored me and kept talking.
At the end, once again, she kept jabbering. It also annoys me when people are watching a movie and say "such and such is going to happen. I TOLD YOU! Didn't I?" Her partner is worse than she is for that (J has a tendency to "predict" what is going to happen and then be all "TOLD YA!" even if it's a movie WE HAVE SEEN BEFORE and I just want to scream out THANKS FOR STATING THE OBVIOUS, CAPTAIN RETARDO! YOU DID NOT "TELL ME" SHIT!" Obviously, I am a very mean, mean person with serious rage issues. Moving swiftly on) So of course my aunt is all "this is going to happen. I can see it. Just watch! AHA SEE I TOLD YOU DIDN'T I?!" and I just kind of ignored her. And because I wasn't giggling in awe of her AMAZING film-predicting talent (even though she herself admitted "it kind of sucks how so many movies are so damn predictable these days, huh?" and figuring out the end is not, therefore, a huge act of talent or skill) she turned and said, in an almost offended tone "what's wrong with you?!"
When she says that to me, and especially in that tone, I want to scream. My aunt suffers from severe depression and possible bipolar disorder. When she's down, she's quiet, bitchy, and sleeps like every single hour that she isn't at work. But it's OKAY for her to not be the sunny life of the party, and that is what pisses me off: something must be WRONG if I am quiet or tired or not laughing my ass off every single second of every single day. But she doesn't even ASK "is something the matter?" in a tone that sounds caring or halfway interested. No, I get an abrupt "what's wrong with you!?!?!" instead.
WELL GEE SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY...
I'm not saying that something is always bothering me, but sometimes there IS something and I'm not going to talk about my feelings to somebody who acts like that.
In this case, the something wrong could have been summed up by "If you're not going to watch the motherfucking movie, then tell me and I will go watch it on my computer instead so you can sit and talk yourself in peace, because I, for one, would actually like to hear what the fuck is going on."
But it's perfectly okay for her to shush other people. If J is talking my aunt will hush shush shush shutupplease her until she is quiet. God forbid if I did.
Incidentally, that time with Lost? I even told her "you know, the longest you went without talking was 42 seconds" and she just laughed it off and said she was bored because she'd seen it before. She was the one who wanted to rewatch them. Otherwise, again, I'd have just watched the episodes on my computer in peace and silence.
God, I'm turning into a ranty old asshole of a woman aren't I?
And obviously, every little thing can really piss me off. But yeah, I was super anoyed the other night and I can't help myself.
I forgot what else I was actually going to write about here, so I'll leave off with that for now and write more as and when I can think of something else. In the meantime, I need to try to scrounge up some work to do =/.
Much love ladies, and I hope you're all having a better start to the week than I am. Four "family" meals together, and I'm home free for nearly two weeks. Bring it on.
Also, this time next week I will be sitting in my orthodontist's office and waiting for my braces to come off. Fuck yeah! I will also, however, be old. Fucking birthdays.
Starve on,
Vee xox
Friday, 24 April 2009
I missed this
Man, I've missed having a place to do random ranting.
So here goes.
Today, is a bad day. It started off okay because I'd lost half a pound since yesterday even though I also had two buttercream-frosted cupcakes (I baked cupcakes to bring into work on Wednesday). And there are no cupcakes left for me at home because I skillfully offered all the leftovers to my aunts, who are determined to eat what they can now, since they're for definite getting the weight loss surgery this summer now.
But, the bad side effect of bringing in the cupcakes, even though I got a marriage proposal from my manager and it's been quoted as "the most important thing to happen this year" in a meeting... Is that the SUPER FUCKING WEIRDO old man (50+) has taken it upon himself to start talking to me, which weirds me out.
A while back he got put on a disciplinary for sniffing a woman teammate's chair. She caught him when she forgot something at her desk and came back to get it.
Then three years ago he sent a friend of mine some expensive flowers to her desk on Valentine's day, even though he'd never spoken to her before (but apparently HAD been talking about her forever to one of her best friends, who he sat next to at the time). This doesn't sound like a big deal but if you ever met him you would understand. He's "weird" in a way that is otherwise indescribeable.
Yesterday though, while I was working overtime and was the only other person left in the office, he came over and started yammering at me. And I swear to god the first thing he said to me was "You're from Calgary right? I know a family from there. I don't know if you'd know them. How big a city is it?" Like are you seriously pulling out the lamest, most retarded question in the world? People always assume just because I grew up in Calgary I know every single person to ever live there. Nevermind that this man is ten years older than my mother. God.
Then today he came over and asked if I was coming in tomorrow for Overtime and when I said no he asked if I lived far from the office. And I had this sense of dread but I told him I live farish, yes. And he said "Well I was wondering if you would bring cupcakes in for those of us who are working?" Seriously. I am not your pack mule 1950's wife, fuck off.
Like bringing in a couple batches of cupcakes for my teammates somehow translates to "she is totally hot for me, let's try lameley to flirt, bwahhaha". SO. NOT. INTERESTED.
Ew.
And then on top of that, I'm starting to get quite a bad headache, probably due to skipping lunch but whatever. I'm doing better at staying hydrated lately, which is a plus... Just as I realized I'm out of migraine meds (and tried taking 3 generic painkillers instead, but I'm doubtful they'll do anything) one of my boss-supervisor folks came over and asked if I'd pick up our phone line when one of the other women in the team leaves at 2:30.
For those of you who do not know, I work in a pensions office in an adminsitrative role. I use the term "admin" loosely, since I don't actually administer the pensions themselves I just produce and give information out to the people who request it, work that is varying in its complexity. But I don't actually know the first thing about pensions. So having to pick up our phone line that the local contact centre uses if they have questions about our policies, is like putting me into a courtroom and demanding me to adequately defend someone up against a murder charge. I have not the first fucking clue.
Luckily, the woman who is leaving said the only calls she's had to day were chasing some information requests that haven't been sent out yet, and it shouldn't be TOO hard, and there are people in my team I can ask if I'm asked something I can't answer on my own. But I could just really do without the hassle today. My head hurts, I'm tired, and my headache is making me feel sick. All I want to do is curl up somewhere and pass out for a day or two solid, but no.
Grumble.
/rant
Sorry, I just really needed to get that out, because I'm irritated.
So here goes.
Today, is a bad day. It started off okay because I'd lost half a pound since yesterday even though I also had two buttercream-frosted cupcakes (I baked cupcakes to bring into work on Wednesday). And there are no cupcakes left for me at home because I skillfully offered all the leftovers to my aunts, who are determined to eat what they can now, since they're for definite getting the weight loss surgery this summer now.
But, the bad side effect of bringing in the cupcakes, even though I got a marriage proposal from my manager and it's been quoted as "the most important thing to happen this year" in a meeting... Is that the SUPER FUCKING WEIRDO old man (50+) has taken it upon himself to start talking to me, which weirds me out.
A while back he got put on a disciplinary for sniffing a woman teammate's chair. She caught him when she forgot something at her desk and came back to get it.
Then three years ago he sent a friend of mine some expensive flowers to her desk on Valentine's day, even though he'd never spoken to her before (but apparently HAD been talking about her forever to one of her best friends, who he sat next to at the time). This doesn't sound like a big deal but if you ever met him you would understand. He's "weird" in a way that is otherwise indescribeable.
Yesterday though, while I was working overtime and was the only other person left in the office, he came over and started yammering at me. And I swear to god the first thing he said to me was "You're from Calgary right? I know a family from there. I don't know if you'd know them. How big a city is it?" Like are you seriously pulling out the lamest, most retarded question in the world? People always assume just because I grew up in Calgary I know every single person to ever live there. Nevermind that this man is ten years older than my mother. God.
Then today he came over and asked if I was coming in tomorrow for Overtime and when I said no he asked if I lived far from the office. And I had this sense of dread but I told him I live farish, yes. And he said "Well I was wondering if you would bring cupcakes in for those of us who are working?" Seriously. I am not your pack mule 1950's wife, fuck off.
Like bringing in a couple batches of cupcakes for my teammates somehow translates to "she is totally hot for me, let's try lameley to flirt, bwahhaha". SO. NOT. INTERESTED.
Ew.
And then on top of that, I'm starting to get quite a bad headache, probably due to skipping lunch but whatever. I'm doing better at staying hydrated lately, which is a plus... Just as I realized I'm out of migraine meds (and tried taking 3 generic painkillers instead, but I'm doubtful they'll do anything) one of my boss-supervisor folks came over and asked if I'd pick up our phone line when one of the other women in the team leaves at 2:30.
For those of you who do not know, I work in a pensions office in an adminsitrative role. I use the term "admin" loosely, since I don't actually administer the pensions themselves I just produce and give information out to the people who request it, work that is varying in its complexity. But I don't actually know the first thing about pensions. So having to pick up our phone line that the local contact centre uses if they have questions about our policies, is like putting me into a courtroom and demanding me to adequately defend someone up against a murder charge. I have not the first fucking clue.
Luckily, the woman who is leaving said the only calls she's had to day were chasing some information requests that haven't been sent out yet, and it shouldn't be TOO hard, and there are people in my team I can ask if I'm asked something I can't answer on my own. But I could just really do without the hassle today. My head hurts, I'm tired, and my headache is making me feel sick. All I want to do is curl up somewhere and pass out for a day or two solid, but no.
Grumble.
/rant
Sorry, I just really needed to get that out, because I'm irritated.
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