Don’t Have To Live Like A Refugee

I’ve applied for unemployment.  There is no doubt that I’ll qualify technically as you can collect if you are fired if it isn’t because you did something illegal or were insubordinant.  As long as it was simply that it was a bad fit or you didn’t have the right skills, you qualify. I certainly don’t possess the skills to deal with people who suffer from Borderine Personality Disorder.  (This makes is sound much more benign than it really is.)  The question is what I was doing 5 quarters  ago.  5 quarters ago I was not working but 6 quarters ago I was.  And making webmaster salary too.  They asked me to account for 2 years, all the way back to Jan 2008.  It’s entirely possible that I might get to claim unemployment on webmaster wages.  I might have to go before a panel to do it but I bet this can work out.

Goddess of Abundance, please bring me generous unemployment until the right job with the right people, the right skills, the right pay, the right benefits, the right vacation, the right location, the right hours, comes along.

SMIB

Carriage Wit

Even though I know that I did everything I could to please my ex-boss and even though I know she is crazy and that her colleagues and my co-workers all said that I had the hardest job there and that she was a very difficult person to please, if not impossible, I’m bruised.  I was warned and yet I feel burned.

I’m trying not to take this personally but it’s pretty tough. It was personal.  She hated me for not being her last assistant and every thing she did showed it.  Friday was just disgusting, that mask she wore in front of the two personnel people she had in her office to fire me.   Thank you sooo much for all you did for me, I really like you as a person, hardest thing for me to do, blah blah blah.  Uh huh.  If that were so, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation beotch.

I’m so fucking angry and I feel so powerless.  This week I get to go to the Food Bank. Can’t wait.  It’s ironic that when my tax return came in that I sent money to our local Food Bank.  Can hardly wait to start eating a diet of carbs and gain all my weight back.

  • At least I’ll have the time during daylight to take long walks, that’s something.
  • At least I have a couple projects in the works that don’t need money right now.
  • At least I have my life.

But I feel woefully missing of my pride and my financial security and peace.  I had just spent $750 on Miss Mitty and me with our health.  That hurt even when I had the job.  The itty bitty shitty committee keeps popping up telling me what I should have said, what she deserved to hear.  The Scarlet Pimpernal called it “Carriage Wit,” what you think to say on the ride home.  *sigh*

What did I get out of that whole messed up experience?  The knowledge that I had the opportunity to tell her what I really thought and I didn’t.  I had the opportunity to blackmail her with some information that could do great damage to her pride and her career but also eventually her pocketbook and I didn’t.  I managed to improve myself in very good ways as an employee despite her claims that I didn’t. I also managed to find detachment and completely practiced restraint of pen and tongue.  All very difficult things for me to do in the past.

I have no idea what the future holds, I’m nervous. I’m afraid of getting depressed again.  I’m afraid of losing my belongings again.  I don’t want to go there this time.  I’m trying to come up with ways to protect myself, to stay positive, and to bring in abundance in a time of lack.

I’ve got my work cut out for me.

One HUGE difference?  The girlfriends have come out of the woodwork.  I’ve got all kinds of dates to go out for lunch or a show, their dime, for the next three weeks.  I certainly have the good girlfriends in abundance.  Yes, that includes you all.  Thank you so much for your support as I bring myself out of a tailspin.

C.R.A.P.

The problem folks is money.  I’d love to do all these wonderful things that folks keep suggesting would be great to do now that I have all this time but I have no money. My last paycheck will be thankfully a little larger because of the vacation pay they have to pay me, but I am going to have to stretch it.

Yesterday when I was talking to my parents I said, “I don’t know how long I can hold out.”  My mother said, “I don’t think we can do this much longer either.”  Ah.  Okay.

This morning I asked my mom what she might like for Valentine’s Day.  Yesterday she had asked me if I could take my Dad out to buy her a Valentine’s Day card.  And it hit me that he would no longer be able to do this for her again.  That I need to remember to help him get these kinds of things from now on.  So this morning, as I was planning my day, I asked my Mom if there was anything she would particularly like for Valentine’s Day.

She said, “I don’t need anything, you’re in your own space and you don’t need to worry about me.”

I smiled and said, “Mom, I want to do something for you, what would you like?”

“I just want to let you be in your space.”

“I’m not in a space.”

“This conversation has become really foul.”

*blink*

She keeps going on about me and the space I’m in.  I’m trying to say, Mom I’m not in a space, why do you assume I’m in a “space?”  Suddenly she’s all, “Why is everything about you???  I never said anything like that.  I said that you didn’t need to worry about me.  Why are you talking about your space? Why do you turn everything around so it’s all about you???”

Fine Mom.

5 minutes later I go into the kitchen to get Miss Mitty’s breakfast and she wants to give me a hug.  I was sooooo not ready.  I told her that I think it’s time I left and she said, “I knew you’d go there.”

I don’t think there’s any hope for us.

And here she is knocking on my door as I’m crying because I can’t pick up the phone to make the call I need to make. “I want to come in.”  “Not right now mom.”  “I want to come in.” “Not right now mom.”  “I don’t want to talk I just want to come in.”  “Mom, can I just have the space you think I need so badly?” “I don’t want to talk, I just want to give you a hug.” “I don’t want a hug right now.” “Well let me know when you do.”

*sigh*

I’m going to start looking for a place to live.  The fellow who gave me money last year has a second house where he goes to write.  I’m going to ask him if me and Miss Mitty could stay in one of the bedrooms and use the kitchen and bathroom in exchange for cleaning.  He offered when we had to call the cops on my dad last fall.  I think I’ll see where he’s at, if he is still open to the idea.  He loves cats, he’s not there all that much I don’t think.

I’ve contacted unemployment about unemployment. Technically I do not qualify because I wasn’t working 5 quarters ago with an employer paying unemployment taxes.  I’m also going to check out school.  I understand that if you go back to school there might be some financial assistance.  There are definitely some classes I could take to boost my skill level.  I really have to suck it up and apply for food stamps and medical if I can get it.

Time to jump off the cliff and watch my wings grow on the way down.

F.I.R.E.D.

Of course I’m a bit afraid of the financial future but on the other hand I wouldn’t have this fucking dyspepsia if she had been anything close to a kind person.

I’m totally relieved and yet I feel just sick.  Well, sicker…

Dyspepsia

It’s just a little word.   It has “pep” in it and for some reason it struck me as something that I didn’t have to take too seriously.  That it  might not be that big a deal.  Certainly nothing like Celiac Disease.  Gawd. Nothing Peppy about it.

I was kinda wrong.  At least once a week my system is completely off kilter.  I feel like hurling in all directions etc, envision Train Station in Dijon (last half of post).  I called in sick Monday and here I am, at work, on Friday, worse than ever.

….. Breaking News: This just in, co-worker sick with tummy something or other.  Hmmm, maybe this is sick not dyspepsia.

It’s been quite a week.  Miss Mitty went to the dentist on Wednesday and was quite messed up by the time she got home. Which was 8:45pm because they saw her late.   She kept trying to get her land legs all night long. She wouldn’t rest until she could walk without hitting a wall, turn a circle without her back legs collapsing, jump on and off the bed with the grace of a youngster.  Which meant until at least 2am, when I was finally able to sleep through it all, she was up and down, bump, oof, up and down, oof, circle, bump, off, bump, on, circle oof, omg.

She was much better yesterday but every once in awhile she misjudged a step or two.

Me? I feel like I’ve walked into a wall or two but the one required meeting I’m supposed to be at today doesn’t start until 3:30.  Yes, a boss who is so perverse that she schedules the one weekly required core staff meeting on Fridays from 3:30 – 5:30.  What kind of nasty is that any way.  I’m seriously considering begging to go home, all day Fridays are always required, and then come back for the meeting to take minutes.  gah.

Looking for bleah cat photos and found this one.  At least it made me laugh.