People leave behind a lot of stuff.
Everywhere you look, there's something leftover from someone that came before. Usually trash.
My office is filled with things like that. A stapler bearing an irremovable "DJ" sits on my desk. I have a binder filled with different notes and things to know in the job, some written by me and others by the girl before me. A desk that has belonged to God knows how many people or which ones(it has a deep, long scratch/battle scar that I'm quite fond of). First aid kits that have hung on the wall of our women's bathroom that must've been donated to the college by Methuselah himself.
It makes me wonder what thing I'll leave behind when I leave this job.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
And The Card Attached Would Say...
Friendship is a great and wondrous thing. Good friends can turn bad days into good days(or at least less bad ones), forge memories, and walk with you on the path to happiness and success. And the best friends in life understand you on an intuitive level. They love you in a way that a romantic partner can't and hold a piece of your heart.
But friendships, as good as they are, aren't always permanent fixtures in your life. Whether the friendship ends with a bang or a whimper, there will be times when people dear to you will exit your life.
Whether you want them to or not.
My best friend Tony has been having lots of feelings for a person lately, not all of them good. Him, our friend Daisy*, and I have a texting group chat. He approached the two of us in the group chat last week, saying he was having issues.
Tony isn't known for bringing up his problems. It's probably not a healthy thing, but everyone has an unhealthy coping method or two. So approached with this, Daisy and I didn't know how to react. We tried helping him get to the root of the problem.
And then we didn't hear from him for five days.
When he did deign to speak to us on Friday, he told us off for psychoanalyzing him and not automatically knowing(as his best friends) what his real issue was. If presented with these perfectly valid criticisms at the time, we could've stopped doing that immediately. But instead, he decided to fucking disappear.
And maybe it's just because I've recently had other people go on radio silence for no discernible reason(which he knows), but I... didn't take this well. I responded in like tones, pointing out the same things I have here. Daisy, being Daisy, apologized and validated his feelings. That's probably what I should've done. Now we're in a place where I won't apologize for anything because I felt abandoned, and he won't apologize because he doesn't think he did anything wrong.
We haven't spoken since then. I don't feel his absence as keenly as I thought I might. I'm not sure if that's the anger sustaining me, or if we've just drifted apart far enough that this distance doesn't feel unbearable. The truth is, it's been getting more difficult having a best friend in a different stage of life. Tony still lives at home, doesn't drive, doesn't have the same worries and fears that I do every day. If he loses his job, he's broke and upset. If I lose my job, I lose my entire life.
I don't know if this will be the end of our years of best friendship. If it is, well... Maybe it's for the best. Not emotionally; I know there will come a day when I want to text him, but won't be able to. But this may be the universe's way of pushing me towards friends that will understand my growth.
Nothing gold can stay.
*This girl strikes me as being sort of flowery, so I think Daisy suits.
But friendships, as good as they are, aren't always permanent fixtures in your life. Whether the friendship ends with a bang or a whimper, there will be times when people dear to you will exit your life.
Whether you want them to or not.
My best friend Tony has been having lots of feelings for a person lately, not all of them good. Him, our friend Daisy*, and I have a texting group chat. He approached the two of us in the group chat last week, saying he was having issues.
Tony isn't known for bringing up his problems. It's probably not a healthy thing, but everyone has an unhealthy coping method or two. So approached with this, Daisy and I didn't know how to react. We tried helping him get to the root of the problem.
And then we didn't hear from him for five days.
When he did deign to speak to us on Friday, he told us off for psychoanalyzing him and not automatically knowing(as his best friends) what his real issue was. If presented with these perfectly valid criticisms at the time, we could've stopped doing that immediately. But instead, he decided to fucking disappear.
And maybe it's just because I've recently had other people go on radio silence for no discernible reason(which he knows), but I... didn't take this well. I responded in like tones, pointing out the same things I have here. Daisy, being Daisy, apologized and validated his feelings. That's probably what I should've done. Now we're in a place where I won't apologize for anything because I felt abandoned, and he won't apologize because he doesn't think he did anything wrong.
We haven't spoken since then. I don't feel his absence as keenly as I thought I might. I'm not sure if that's the anger sustaining me, or if we've just drifted apart far enough that this distance doesn't feel unbearable. The truth is, it's been getting more difficult having a best friend in a different stage of life. Tony still lives at home, doesn't drive, doesn't have the same worries and fears that I do every day. If he loses his job, he's broke and upset. If I lose my job, I lose my entire life.
I don't know if this will be the end of our years of best friendship. If it is, well... Maybe it's for the best. Not emotionally; I know there will come a day when I want to text him, but won't be able to. But this may be the universe's way of pushing me towards friends that will understand my growth.
Nothing gold can stay.
*This girl strikes me as being sort of flowery, so I think Daisy suits.
Friday, January 13, 2017
She Works Hard for the Money
Dude, I don't even know anymore.
I'm a pretty model employee. I make things work, I get people going, and out of the complaints made about transportation none of them actually involve me.
So why am I facing my second write-up in three months? In my life?
No, really, that's an actual question. Because I really don't know where it's coming from. Because I show up to work. I do my job. I do other people's jobs. But like clockwork, I'm being yanked into the office.
Apparently I should know that repeating something(something said, by the way, loudly in an office full of people) is bad. I'm supposed to listen to the advice that wasn't actually given at any point. And if I wanted to send someone an honest, apologetic email stating that I wasn't able to convince the big boss not to yank vans from a group, and that the recipient of the original email could talk to her if she liked, well FUCK YOU BUDDY that's insubordination. By the way, apparently it's entirely legal for your boss to ask to see your work emails. Privacy < capitalism.
I'd own up to it if I was getting yoked up on any of the actual mistakes I've made, but that's not what's going on. I'm blindsided by issues that aren't even issues(or at least not what I consider issues; obviously, there's a difference in opinion.)
Frankly, I don't need this. I'm an intelligent and talented individual that has been a benefit to every place I've ever been employed. I don't need to have someone in the office running to the boss lady and using every opportunity to chip away at my reputation. I don't need an anxiety spike every morning as I put my shoes on to go to work. And I don't need someone who hasn't been at this college a quarter as long as I have talking the way she does to me because she's trying to be the HBIC.*
I always talk about getting a new job, but then I have a very good day and think "Oh, it's not so bad", and stick around. But I think yesterday really sealed the deal.
Tonight, I'm going to have myself a good dinner. Then I'm going out with Dory and drinking until I reach the next plane of existence. And when I get home and snuggle soundly in my bed, I will sleep like the dead, until I awaken and go get myself a good breakfast at our local cafe. And when I'm purchasing my everything bagel, toasted with cream cheese on the side, I will grab our local newspaper. I will peruse the "Help Wanted" section, and I will go find myself a new damn job.
*Head Bitch In Charge
I'm a pretty model employee. I make things work, I get people going, and out of the complaints made about transportation none of them actually involve me.
So why am I facing my second write-up in three months? In my life?
No, really, that's an actual question. Because I really don't know where it's coming from. Because I show up to work. I do my job. I do other people's jobs. But like clockwork, I'm being yanked into the office.
Apparently I should know that repeating something(something said, by the way, loudly in an office full of people) is bad. I'm supposed to listen to the advice that wasn't actually given at any point. And if I wanted to send someone an honest, apologetic email stating that I wasn't able to convince the big boss not to yank vans from a group, and that the recipient of the original email could talk to her if she liked, well FUCK YOU BUDDY that's insubordination. By the way, apparently it's entirely legal for your boss to ask to see your work emails. Privacy < capitalism.
I'd own up to it if I was getting yoked up on any of the actual mistakes I've made, but that's not what's going on. I'm blindsided by issues that aren't even issues(or at least not what I consider issues; obviously, there's a difference in opinion.)
Frankly, I don't need this. I'm an intelligent and talented individual that has been a benefit to every place I've ever been employed. I don't need to have someone in the office running to the boss lady and using every opportunity to chip away at my reputation. I don't need an anxiety spike every morning as I put my shoes on to go to work. And I don't need someone who hasn't been at this college a quarter as long as I have talking the way she does to me because she's trying to be the HBIC.*
I always talk about getting a new job, but then I have a very good day and think "Oh, it's not so bad", and stick around. But I think yesterday really sealed the deal.
Tonight, I'm going to have myself a good dinner. Then I'm going out with Dory and drinking until I reach the next plane of existence. And when I get home and snuggle soundly in my bed, I will sleep like the dead, until I awaken and go get myself a good breakfast at our local cafe. And when I'm purchasing my everything bagel, toasted with cream cheese on the side, I will grab our local newspaper. I will peruse the "Help Wanted" section, and I will go find myself a new damn job.
*Head Bitch In Charge
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Everyone Needs a Rudolph
Maybe it's a bit late for a Christmas-y type theme, but it's my blog and I'll do as I damn well please!
Anyway.
Last night I found myself traveling towards BWI in some of the densest fog I've ever had the pleasure of driving through at one in the morning. Dory(remember Dory? My frenemy? At least I'm pretty sure Dory was the fake name I gave for her...) was flying home from her Christmas trip home. And because the world is not a huge fan of me being well-rested, her flight was delayed and an 11pm pick up turned into a 2:28am one. And I'm sure that I could've said no, that it was too late at night, that she gets paid crazy good money and she can go get her own cab. But I had a Horton moment. You know, "I meant what I said and I said what I meant" sort of thing.
I was alone on the road, and stayed that way as I crossed over the Bay Bridge. The only thing I had to guide me was the next row of green arrows, barely cutting through the fog. As I came over the crest of the bridge, the moment where I can usually see the rolling hills of the Western Shore in all their soft glory, I was instead met with a wall of solid gray.
Until... blink.
Just the tiniest flash of light, barely visible. But blink it came again, a steady rhythm cutting through the darkness in gentle, strobing slice.
It was a light on the top of the bridge, warning aircraft and ships alike that there was indeed a quite large bridge there. It reminded me of Rudolph cutting through the night to save Christmas, of Santa finding a guiding light just when he'd lost all hope.
What would life be like, I thought, without lights that could cut through the swallowing darkness? What would we do if we always had to tiptoe along without knowing that there was anything out there to guide the way?
Everybody needs a light that cuts through the darkness. We need to know that something or someone is there to poke holes in the fog, to keep us from feeling hopeless and consumed. Whether it's a person, or an idea, or anything in between, everyone needs a Rudolph.
Anyway.
Last night I found myself traveling towards BWI in some of the densest fog I've ever had the pleasure of driving through at one in the morning. Dory(remember Dory? My frenemy? At least I'm pretty sure Dory was the fake name I gave for her...) was flying home from her Christmas trip home. And because the world is not a huge fan of me being well-rested, her flight was delayed and an 11pm pick up turned into a 2:28am one. And I'm sure that I could've said no, that it was too late at night, that she gets paid crazy good money and she can go get her own cab. But I had a Horton moment. You know, "I meant what I said and I said what I meant" sort of thing.
I was alone on the road, and stayed that way as I crossed over the Bay Bridge. The only thing I had to guide me was the next row of green arrows, barely cutting through the fog. As I came over the crest of the bridge, the moment where I can usually see the rolling hills of the Western Shore in all their soft glory, I was instead met with a wall of solid gray.
Until... blink.
Just the tiniest flash of light, barely visible. But blink it came again, a steady rhythm cutting through the darkness in gentle, strobing slice.
It was a light on the top of the bridge, warning aircraft and ships alike that there was indeed a quite large bridge there. It reminded me of Rudolph cutting through the night to save Christmas, of Santa finding a guiding light just when he'd lost all hope.
What would life be like, I thought, without lights that could cut through the swallowing darkness? What would we do if we always had to tiptoe along without knowing that there was anything out there to guide the way?
Everybody needs a light that cuts through the darkness. We need to know that something or someone is there to poke holes in the fog, to keep us from feeling hopeless and consumed. Whether it's a person, or an idea, or anything in between, everyone needs a Rudolph.
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