A Public Health Warning

*Cough, cough, cough*

I didn’t go to work today (see the time stamp…it’s the middle of the day!). I’m sick. So very very very sick. I have a completely debilitating case of need-a-day-off-itis. So, look out world; I suspect it is highly contagious.

So shit happened at work last week: A wonderful invitation to do something out of the norm, but which I am absolutely qualified for; followed by a broken promise, which was a very personal slap in the face. I was singled out, and everyone (except the manager responsible) agrees it was wrong and unfair. I was hurt by it, and it was all I could do to hold myself together long enough to get through the day. I cried and cried and cried when I got home. But I’ll survive, and I’m viewing this incident as a reminder that I’m not supposed to work there forever and using it as the kick in the pants to go do something.

So, I’m spending the day sitting on my couch, looking up job openings, and writing cover letters. Wish me luck!

Apparently, I’m a horrible person.

Or, that’s what I’ve been told anyway.

There was a funeral this afternoon. I knew the man had died, I knew the funeral was today, I knew plenty of others who were going, but I chose not to go. So why didn’t I go? Simple: I didn’t know the man!

So what’s the fuss? Well, this man was the founder (40? 50? years ago) of the company I work for. His son bought the company in the 80’s, and for many years the father would frequently come by to see what was going on. I work for the son, but the father hasn’t been around much in several years.

Apparently, I’m a selfish, thoughtless, heartless, bitch, because I didn’t feel it was necessary for me to be at the funeral. From a coworker-friend, I received a lecture about how she didn’t know him either, but that she was going because she cares about our boss and his family. I should have gone to demonstrate my loyalty to the company.

What the hell? I demonstrated my loyalty to the company by actually working to the end of the day, while most others skipped out early to shower, change, and get a good parking spot!

I offered my condolences to my boss, his wife, and his sister a week ago. I feel I met my obligations as an employee and as a member of the human race, and I don’t really understand what the big deal is. There were others who didn’t go either; I wonder if they did/will get the same lecture.

a poorly written ramble

There was a party after work on Friday to celebrate the completion of a beautiful, yet lengthy project. While waiting for it to start, I was chatting with Red-Headed Friend and New Girl, who are both among the small group of sub-thirty-year-olds who work there. They have a different job title than I, which I consider superior to mine, although I’ve been assured that is not true, and it shouldn’t matter because I don’t want their job any more than I want mine!

Anyway, they were discussing things I have trouble relating to. They are both seriously thinking of buying houses in the woods out of town. I sometimes wish that I had a house, but I’m not settled enough in my head to settle in a house. And I definitely wouldn’t want to live outside of downtown hickville! I need some kind of human interaction, and I like being able to walk places. These coworkers have moved around a bit, and always returned to this area, so they are finally confident that this is the place they want to be. Having never really lived in many other places, I’m still pretty confident that this is not the place I want to be, but my coworkers looked at me like I had three heads and said that I don’t appreciate the beauty of this place, how nowhere else is like this. Ok, but maybe there are other beautiful places too, and frankly, a little not like this this might be good for me.

They also went on and on about how we work for such a wonderful company, but that the old-timers whine so much because they’ve lost touch with the real world. It doesn’t matter how great the company is if the job isn’t what I want to do. Oh, and my job really does suck compared to theirs, but they’ve lost touch if they think I have it easy, huffing chemicals and working through tendinitis. Good for them that they’ve figured out their calling in life; I wish I could do the same.

I get short-lived inspirations of what I might want to do, but generally I find out what it takes to get there and have to abandon that thought. Lately, I’ve been thinking about working in a hospital lab, performing chemistry experiments on people’s body fluids. No, it’s not creepy! I don’t want to suck their blood, and it is an actual job. My local hospital even has current openings, but they require a specific certification. I was thinking that with my math/science background and all the lab courses that I have taken I might need some kind of 2-week course in hospital safety practices. No. I’d need a whole ‘nother degree, associates for the lower level position, bachelors for the higher, to qualify to take the certification exam. Really? Are you kidding me? I wonder how many of the courses I’ve already taken could be applied toward that degree. But still!! I really really really don’t want to go back to school. It just wasn’t my thing. I don’t learn like that, with a disinterested person droning on and on at the students. I learn by doing. You know what they say, ‘Life is not a spectator sport’. So I guess I’ll cross this job off the list.

The Honeymoon is Over!

(lyrics to come when I have more time to think about it)
The honeymoon is so over. I even filed for a divorce today, but I haven’t told him yet.

NO! I’m not talking about my boyfriend… and NO! there wasn’t/isn’t a wedding. Ok? Got it?

I’m talking about the man I spend more time with than anyone else on the planet, who affectionately refers to me as the ‘old ball and chain’. He’s a curmudgeon and a dirty old bastard. In fact, I’ve been told by several observers that there already exists a sexual harassment file on him, and all I have to do is say the word. He’s harmless though, and he’s been my work partner for more than a year.

His lousy attitude brings me down and his angry/aggressive music makes me angry and aggressive. Our output is decent in terms of quality and quantity, but I need a break from this unhealthy relationship.

About a week ago he was out sick, and I got stuck doing a full day of hard labor, unassisted. I got it done, though, and this project is only a quick-and-dirty, get-it-done type job, as opposed to a drawn out, fussy one. We had planned to finish this project today, so I arrived this morning and was getting ready for the final step. He arrived and immediately started over at square friggin’ one. He was being much fussier than on any other part of the project; actually, I think he was milking it. He didn’t say one word to me in apology or explanation. He was wasting his time today and invalidating all the work I did while he was out. I finally walked away and found something else to do to cool off. Naturally, he started bitching about me to anyone who would listen to him whine for sticking him with all this extra work. For F***’s sake, he created the extra work!

I ran into my foreman a bit later and asked if he would be willing to mix up the pairings a bit. A year with one person is an awful long time. I also asked if there was work going on at one of our off-site locations (nicknamed “The Beach”); I’d love to spend a little time up there as it is quiet and less frenzied. He seemed receptive to the idea, but no plans have been made yet.

During our 2pm break today, a number of us were sitting outside, when a familiar car came down the drive. L used to work for the company, but quit the beginning of last summer. L and I were the only females at the time but were not the best of friends. I was raised a snob, and she was raised a redneck in an extreme which I have never before, or since, seen in a female. We were civil…she could never be considered ‘professional’. The guys all loved her because she baked cookies and flirted with them and thought nothing about taking off her shirt to show off her entire-back tattoo. Classy, huh? I wasn’t sorry when she quit, and since then? I’m the alpha female; this is my turf.

All the guys fawned over her during break as she bragged all about how much she’d been working lately (really? and you were done before 2pm?), how she’s spending two weeks in Mexico (probably to lick up the spilled beer left over from spring break), and how she’s going to take the whole summer off (I’d have to live in my car if I went without income for that long). Even my own boyfriend couldn’t get enough of her! She tried to steal him from me once before. Obviously, it didn’t work; he’s not into trailer trash.

Yeah, so the honeymoon is over. Between me and my work partner, and between me and my job (but hey, that’s not new).

I think I’ll go take a nice long lavender-scented bath. Someday when I own my dream house, I’m going to have a spa tub and one of those showers with water squirting from 20 different directions.

Aaaahhhhhh. That feels devine.

I Enjoy Being a Girl

~Rogers and Hammerstein (from Flower Drum Song)

At work, I dress like a boy. I wear t-shirts and sweatshirts, baggy (usually men’s) jeans, sneakers, and a hat or bandana to cover my hair. This is a necessity, as I am always filthy and comfortable cheap clothes definitely trump style and fashion for this occupation. I also work with 50+ guys and only 2 other females, and this has to be one of the least fashionable states in the whole country.

I dress differently on evenings and weekends. I don’t even like to stop by the grocery store on my way home from work in my stained and tattered work clothes. I am female, and I suppress it only for the reality of my (temporary – I hope) job. On weekends, I like to wear skirts and makeup and actually even brush my hair! Dare I say it? I might even be considered attractive.

When I run into coworkers after hours they have comments such as ‘Why are you dressed up?’ or, ‘You look different’. Well, yes, thankfully, I do look different, but it’s not ‘dressed up’ so much as work is ‘dressing down’, and why must it be phrased as an insult? Speaking of insults, the other day a coworker asked me ‘Are you sick? You look terrible’. Um no, I’m not sick, but thanks anyway.

So the other day I stopped by TJ Maxx. I don’t love TJ Maxx – it is very hit or miss – but the only other options in this town are a decrepit JC Penny, a GoodWill, and a Wal-Mart. I tried on a pair of shoes, black, 4-inch stiletto, peep-toes. They looked good on my feet, and they were so comfortable with cushioning under the foot, and the edge of the peep-toe didn’t cut into me. But sadly, and my inner woman is ashamed to admit it, I don’t wear heels like this very often, and I absolutely could not walk in them. Not five steps. Nope. No way. I put the shoes back on the shelf, and pulled out another pair. These were red sandals; isn’t red a sexy shoe color? They fit, and I could walk in them just fine. The heel was probably two inches high and had a wide sturdy base. These shoes just didn’t have the same magic as the black ones, so they too went back on the shelf.

I’ve had lousy skin since I was a teenager. Isn’t that supposed to *poof* disappear the day you turn twenty? I’ve tried most everything in the drugstore. I’ve been to dermatologists. I’ve been on prescription creams, pills, scrubs, you name it. Except Accutane and the one that Jessica Simpson endorses on infomercials. A couple months back I started using a toner; I’m still not sure what toner does. Boyfriend could smell it on my face one night and wanted to know why I smelled like denatured alcohol, a chemical we use at work to clean up epoxy. We frequently wear gloves, other protective gear, and respirators because of the harsh chemicals we are exposed to, most of which are known to cause premature aging, nerve damage, and brain tumors. It was also around this time that I started noticing some lines around my mouth. The toner went in the trash. I’m on a new skin plan regiment now. I’m using several Aveeno products, including a “face brightening” scrub, a day moisturizer with salicylic acid (the only thing that seems like it does something), a “calming” night moisturizer, and an eye cream. An eye cream! I feel so old. I’ll have to get back to you on how well this stuff works.

I need a shower before I head over to dinner with boyfriend (his place only has a tub, and no shower!), but for some odd reason, the hot water is off again in my building. Looks like I’ll have to make a stop at the gym to wash off the day’s filth. Sigh.

A Confession

“Just call me supasonic.
Too much for eyes to see.
A freaky workaholic.
Can you keep up with me?”
~Beverly Knight (Supasonic)

Hello. My name is Ihaveasong. (Hello Ihaveasong!) And I am a workaholic.

As of today, the company I work for is officially in ’spring rush’. Winters are long around here, but it’s time to start gearing up for all the tourists and summer residents. YAY!! This means it is now open season on racking up the overtime hours and pay. I don’t need sleep so much, but I’m psyched about the extra money coming my way. I will be staying late most evenings (1 hour tonight). Tomorrow I will be getting up at 5am to make it to work by 6 (sunrise? huh? Who cares!). I will be working Saturdays. And my paycheck will be huge! And I’ll be so exhausted that I won’t be out spending much of my check either.

My brother works for another company in the same industry. His employer had him down to working only 15 hours a week, but has recently demanded all employees to do 40. Winter is a tough time of year to be broke. I am thankful that at least my company keeps us going full-time year-round. Although, we do go through the annual rumors of layoffs right after the spring rush.

There are two sides to every coin though. Guaranteed burnout hits everyone in a month or two. We all get grumpy and hard to deal with around the time that the managers really start to panic.