1) I need the Dog Whisperer. Sometimes Oscar and I watch episodes together. I tell him it's his homework. He has small animal prey drive and I can't seem to break it. Whenever he sees something, he goes into "the red zone," as I call it, and I can't break his concentration. He just loses his shit. I've tried everything but an E-collar. I bought one, but I'm scared to use it on him. He needs something, though. A month ago he slipped out the gate and almost mauled a corgi. I had to tackle him and pry his jaws off of the poor dog. The dog wasn't hurt, but Oscar had defensive bites all over. This is not the kind of dog I want to own, and I want to be a responsible pet owner and do something before he actually hurts something... or kills it. That said, he's generally a high-energy marshmallow with a sweet disposition and is eager to please. Very endearing. Follows me everywhere and loves to cuddle. It's like he has multiple personality disorder.
2) Cooking disasters? No! Not me... okay, okay... maybe just a few. My mother, bless her heart, was not that great of a cook. She tried, but my siblings and I grew up "saving" things from the stove top before they turned into charred blobs. I have come a long way, but there are still some things I fail at. One is cooking steak. I always seem to overcook it. I know you're supposed to pull it off before it's to where you like it, but somehow I never get it right. I like my steak a healthy medium. I used to work in a lot of fine dining restaurants, so I definitely know ABOUT food, just not necessarily how to cook it. Another thing I need to work on is Alfredo sauce. Always seems grainy. I know I'm doing something wrong. Last thing I need to master, and soon, is how to blind bake a pie crust, like for a quiche. I just made one the other day and even though I thought I HAD blind baked it long enough, it was still mushy on the bottom. To make matters worse, the egg mixture didn't set fast enough and the crust edges got a little overdone.
So you see... I'm not a "toast and macaroni" type disaster... but rather, an "intermediate" "disaster. I would love to get more knowledge on some of the really basic cooking stuff I have never learned properly. You know... like sauces, crusts and breads, meats, etc. Specialties include Swedish Meatballs over garlic mashed potatoes w/ homemade cranberry sauce, lemon and dill salmon steak with flash fried green beans and a dollop of dijon mustard, and pretty much anything involving potatoes. I love potatoes :) When I was younger, I tried to bake every cake recipe in my mom's Betty Crocker cookbook. I don't think I got through them all, but I really enjoy baking. Okay, I love food. There. Now it's really obvious. I swear I work out, too! Haha
3) Roller derby is a legitimate sport now. sh*tlike flying elbows and clotheslines went out about 5 years ago. 4 years ago, at the end of my rookie season, fighting became illegal and cause for ejection and suspension. So... now, there are more rules than hockey. There is occasionally still a fight, but it is entirely legit. Bad blood happens between some of the rival teams. There is a committee that just got derby recognized by the Olympics organization, so expect to see it even more over time. There are a lot of injuries, like any sport. Common are broken legs, busted knees, and broken ribs. I've broken my right hand and my left wrist in derby. I will keep playing as long as my body lets me. My best friend started derby in D.C. 1/2 year ago. She was warming up prior to her first bout after being drafted, fell, and pulverized both bones. 2 plates and 13 screws later, she is just now walking without crutches. She will never play derby again. It's a love of the sport and a lifestyle that keeps me at it. Great for self-esteem, derby is a sport for ANY body type. Asses are... assets. Which is great. Cuz I have a nice ass. haha
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
You Have a Beautiful Soul. Wanna Fuck?
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
Pretty much sums it up.
What I consider beautiful, someone else considers to be a pile of lard that has been stuffed into pantyhose and stitched crudely with industrial thread. They might gag when they discover it is lard, but I see it as a unique and valuable object that acts as a vehicle for a great idea in my head. To me, it is beautiful. Beauty, in my environment, is what draws emotion and a sentimental reminisce of positive times and experiences, feelings. Beauty is not necessarily skin deep, but can be (there is no mistaking that a beautiful woman or man will draw out the aforementioned feelings).
I am not one to deny the importance of physical beauty. Mental aspects are far more beautiful to me, however). I am willing to overlook quite a bit when a strong, healthy and curious mind is attached to a less than perfect exterior. In fact, I prefer it. I find that most beautiful people who appear flawless have deepset emotional issues, anyway, so really, their outer beauty is just a mask. I'm not into GQ and Cosmo physiques because there is nothing to squeeze. They don't even appear human to me. Like cyborgs. Models in magazines aren't perfect either, actually. Even my roommate has learned some photoshop tricks to shrink her arm fat in photos and tone up her tummy. She calls it the "photoshop diet." Deceitful? Yes. Common? Absolutely. I think just about every honest woman I know admits their flaws, and 9/10 say it's a physical one. I know some really beautiful souls, but sometimes the outer shell gets way more attention. It's a pity, but it's the way our culture portrays ideals. Having a beautiful soul won't get you laid (at least not very often).
I've done a ton of research on this, as my thesis work revolved almost entirely on body image and body modification over the course of centuries and throughout the world. I could go on and on about this subject for a really long time, but I'm thinking that might be more than I need to write on right now... so I'm going to stop.
Pretty much sums it up.
What I consider beautiful, someone else considers to be a pile of lard that has been stuffed into pantyhose and stitched crudely with industrial thread. They might gag when they discover it is lard, but I see it as a unique and valuable object that acts as a vehicle for a great idea in my head. To me, it is beautiful. Beauty, in my environment, is what draws emotion and a sentimental reminisce of positive times and experiences, feelings. Beauty is not necessarily skin deep, but can be (there is no mistaking that a beautiful woman or man will draw out the aforementioned feelings).
I am not one to deny the importance of physical beauty. Mental aspects are far more beautiful to me, however). I am willing to overlook quite a bit when a strong, healthy and curious mind is attached to a less than perfect exterior. In fact, I prefer it. I find that most beautiful people who appear flawless have deepset emotional issues, anyway, so really, their outer beauty is just a mask. I'm not into GQ and Cosmo physiques because there is nothing to squeeze. They don't even appear human to me. Like cyborgs. Models in magazines aren't perfect either, actually. Even my roommate has learned some photoshop tricks to shrink her arm fat in photos and tone up her tummy. She calls it the "photoshop diet." Deceitful? Yes. Common? Absolutely. I think just about every honest woman I know admits their flaws, and 9/10 say it's a physical one. I know some really beautiful souls, but sometimes the outer shell gets way more attention. It's a pity, but it's the way our culture portrays ideals. Having a beautiful soul won't get you laid (at least not very often).
I've done a ton of research on this, as my thesis work revolved almost entirely on body image and body modification over the course of centuries and throughout the world. I could go on and on about this subject for a really long time, but I'm thinking that might be more than I need to write on right now... so I'm going to stop.
Intentional Poverty Sufferings and Other Guilty Pleasures
This morning the espresso shots in my mocha were burnt, and I am still bitter.
I truly believe that if you start your day off with one of the simple pleasures in life that makes you happy, your whole attitude is contagiously happy. I used to just get regular mochas because I love chocolate... and Starbucks mocha chocolate sauce mix is almost like dark chocolate, which is even better. Then I started to get kinda bored with it. Raspberry is the newer addition, but I occasionally get coconut or almond to change it up. I'm not diehard about too many rituals, but my morning coffee is one of them. Without it, I feel like something is missing. There is a rollergirl friend at the Starbucks near my house, and she knows what I like. All I have to do is show up now, which is really nice when I'm overly tired and late for work. I kind of fumble through mornings. They are not one of my strengths.
I can do drip brew coffee on lazy weekends when I REALLY don't want to leave the house in my Strawberry Shortcake pajamas, but I have to have creamer. Not sugar in that, just creamer. Could be half and half if the coffee is really good... but if it's "flavored" coffee that my roommate has made out of her stash, I try to kill it's "flavor with a shitload of flavored creamer. *shudder*
Usually that's a fail, and I end up reluctantly changing out of said pajamas and driving to Starbucks. Damned flavored coffee.
Am I the "type" of person to order the same thing in a restaurant that I go to regularly? Well... I don't really go to any restaurants regularly right now. I do a LOT of cooking at home. I love food. I love going out to nice places... but I don't have any money at the moment, so I default on kitchen activities. Yesterday I made beef stew, and that's what I'm having for lunch today and tomorrow. I also made homemade gravy from the drippings to go over it. While I was cooking the stew, I also threw together a ham and cheese quiche, also from scratch. That's how I roll. I am a believer in homemade meals. I'm not a downright snob to readymade meals in the freezer section, but some things NEED to be made from scratch... like mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmms.
Back to the restaurant thing... when I CAN afford to go out, it depends on the place. A lot of times I'll be in the mood for something in particular and will make a beeline for it... but other times I'm in an exploratory mood. I will try most things that fall within acceptable perimeters. Not big on eel sushi or uni shooters (the one with the raw quail egg and sea urchin), but I'll tear up some spicy ahi dragon rolls. Also, not too good for Spam. Very underrated meat, and very versatile. I do like a well cooked steak, but Spam will do as a breakfast food with eggs.
Oh, govt job, how you make me suffer!!
Please don't think I am worthy of praise and commendation for my govt poverty ambitions. I would love to say it was all out of the goodness of my heart that I have sacrificed a well paying job and a 1904 Victorian house on the bluff of the Mississippi River to serve the Hawaii school system, but in reality, there were some ambitious goals that I have realized upon servitude. One of them is to move to Hawaii. Another is freezing my school loan debt, which is constantly threatening to slaughter my unborn children for their blood and organs. Another, still, is the somewhat noble but also rather selfish reason of wanting to clip away from the safety net of my wonderful family and lifelong friends. Sometimes a woman just wants to know she can go at it alone.
Now that I have gotten to this point, I am ready to ditch the program prematurely in pursuit of a real job that pays me a living wage. I am sick of spreading out $200 in food stamps to last the entire month, and sick of juggling bills and gas money for my car so that I can keep the car insured and drive to work to pay the bills and have gas money. It's a huge pain in the ass to live with absolutely no money.
I'm not really feeling the altruism this program likes to pat us on the back for emanating, and I honestly think that the project I was put on last year was a complete failure (not because of what I did, but because the program was poorly executed. Not every program can succeed, I suppose). Perhaps if I had served my country in the Army or the Navy or the Marines, I would have less of a chip on my shoulder about the government and its programs. Unfortunately, I am a bit jaded. I look forward to becoming somewhat successful at something that is non-government related and is pleasurable, of which salary I can go out to eat sometimes, and occasionally splurge on some random sweater vest for my dog (kidding).
I fear I may lack discipline. That's another reason why I'm punishing myself with this job. Haha
I do care about the welfare of others, and I do enjoy and feel compelled to give back... but I am also finding that a part of me needs more... for me. Maybe that is selfish behavior, but I carry the fault of putting everyone else before me a lot of the time... and I'm ready to start getting something back. I don't know how that will be. It could just be traveling and seeing the world. That would certainly make me happy. I would love to start an Arts Center and make work again. These are some of the ideas I've been thinking about. We'll see what happens.
I truly believe that if you start your day off with one of the simple pleasures in life that makes you happy, your whole attitude is contagiously happy. I used to just get regular mochas because I love chocolate... and Starbucks mocha chocolate sauce mix is almost like dark chocolate, which is even better. Then I started to get kinda bored with it. Raspberry is the newer addition, but I occasionally get coconut or almond to change it up. I'm not diehard about too many rituals, but my morning coffee is one of them. Without it, I feel like something is missing. There is a rollergirl friend at the Starbucks near my house, and she knows what I like. All I have to do is show up now, which is really nice when I'm overly tired and late for work. I kind of fumble through mornings. They are not one of my strengths.
I can do drip brew coffee on lazy weekends when I REALLY don't want to leave the house in my Strawberry Shortcake pajamas, but I have to have creamer. Not sugar in that, just creamer. Could be half and half if the coffee is really good... but if it's "flavored" coffee that my roommate has made out of her stash, I try to kill it's "flavor with a shitload of flavored creamer. *shudder*
Usually that's a fail, and I end up reluctantly changing out of said pajamas and driving to Starbucks. Damned flavored coffee.
Am I the "type" of person to order the same thing in a restaurant that I go to regularly? Well... I don't really go to any restaurants regularly right now. I do a LOT of cooking at home. I love food. I love going out to nice places... but I don't have any money at the moment, so I default on kitchen activities. Yesterday I made beef stew, and that's what I'm having for lunch today and tomorrow. I also made homemade gravy from the drippings to go over it. While I was cooking the stew, I also threw together a ham and cheese quiche, also from scratch. That's how I roll. I am a believer in homemade meals. I'm not a downright snob to readymade meals in the freezer section, but some things NEED to be made from scratch... like mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmms.
Back to the restaurant thing... when I CAN afford to go out, it depends on the place. A lot of times I'll be in the mood for something in particular and will make a beeline for it... but other times I'm in an exploratory mood. I will try most things that fall within acceptable perimeters. Not big on eel sushi or uni shooters (the one with the raw quail egg and sea urchin), but I'll tear up some spicy ahi dragon rolls. Also, not too good for Spam. Very underrated meat, and very versatile. I do like a well cooked steak, but Spam will do as a breakfast food with eggs.
Oh, govt job, how you make me suffer!!
Please don't think I am worthy of praise and commendation for my govt poverty ambitions. I would love to say it was all out of the goodness of my heart that I have sacrificed a well paying job and a 1904 Victorian house on the bluff of the Mississippi River to serve the Hawaii school system, but in reality, there were some ambitious goals that I have realized upon servitude. One of them is to move to Hawaii. Another is freezing my school loan debt, which is constantly threatening to slaughter my unborn children for their blood and organs. Another, still, is the somewhat noble but also rather selfish reason of wanting to clip away from the safety net of my wonderful family and lifelong friends. Sometimes a woman just wants to know she can go at it alone.
Now that I have gotten to this point, I am ready to ditch the program prematurely in pursuit of a real job that pays me a living wage. I am sick of spreading out $200 in food stamps to last the entire month, and sick of juggling bills and gas money for my car so that I can keep the car insured and drive to work to pay the bills and have gas money. It's a huge pain in the ass to live with absolutely no money.
I'm not really feeling the altruism this program likes to pat us on the back for emanating, and I honestly think that the project I was put on last year was a complete failure (not because of what I did, but because the program was poorly executed. Not every program can succeed, I suppose). Perhaps if I had served my country in the Army or the Navy or the Marines, I would have less of a chip on my shoulder about the government and its programs. Unfortunately, I am a bit jaded. I look forward to becoming somewhat successful at something that is non-government related and is pleasurable, of which salary I can go out to eat sometimes, and occasionally splurge on some random sweater vest for my dog (kidding).
I fear I may lack discipline. That's another reason why I'm punishing myself with this job. Haha
I do care about the welfare of others, and I do enjoy and feel compelled to give back... but I am also finding that a part of me needs more... for me. Maybe that is selfish behavior, but I carry the fault of putting everyone else before me a lot of the time... and I'm ready to start getting something back. I don't know how that will be. It could just be traveling and seeing the world. That would certainly make me happy. I would love to start an Arts Center and make work again. These are some of the ideas I've been thinking about. We'll see what happens.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Above the Mocha Poverty Line
Maybe it's silly to gauge my poverty level by mochas,
but it's nice to look forward to small rewards.
I figure if I still have $50 in the bank, though, I'm still doing better than a good percentage of the world's population.
I'm lucky to have a bed, and a roof.
no bugs (anymore).
plumbing.
hot showers.
clean clothes.
shoes.
toothpaste and toilet paper.
clean water.
no disease.
Man... really, I'm living the dream!
To be able to drink a mocha reminds me that I am really quite rich in privilege.
To be able to drink a mocha in Kauai makes me bliss out. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I'm going to try to hang on to that feeling next time I feel like quitting my job that pays me $5.40 an hour. Yes, the same one that I must hobble to on crutches. You know, the one that keeps ending in assignments of generating spreadsheet templates on accounting documents.
Living the dream. I'm in living color.
but it's nice to look forward to small rewards.
I figure if I still have $50 in the bank, though, I'm still doing better than a good percentage of the world's population.
I'm lucky to have a bed, and a roof.
no bugs (anymore).
plumbing.
hot showers.
clean clothes.
shoes.
toothpaste and toilet paper.
clean water.
no disease.
Man... really, I'm living the dream!
To be able to drink a mocha reminds me that I am really quite rich in privilege.
To be able to drink a mocha in Kauai makes me bliss out. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I'm going to try to hang on to that feeling next time I feel like quitting my job that pays me $5.40 an hour. Yes, the same one that I must hobble to on crutches. You know, the one that keeps ending in assignments of generating spreadsheet templates on accounting documents.
Living the dream. I'm in living color.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Derby Demure
It is day 47, and I am just settling back into my bedrest from a brief stint to Oahu for a fed conference. It was... interesting. My doctor approved the trip with a compression wrap, but C. was pissed that I went. She was probably right... my leg would swell quite a bit by the end of the day. I did a lot of walking that I probably shouldn't have done... but I also snuck in a bubble bath... so it wasn't all bad ;)
L. was glad to see me and I forged a good bond with her. I needed her to know that I'm doing everything I can to stay involved. I was a little bit pitiful with my leg propped on a chair for three days, but the sympathy it drew was a nice reminder to L. that I am still on the mend. I spent my off-time at the mall getting coffee and then retreating to my private hotel room to eat sushi and a late night pint of strawberry Häagen-Dazs. I was supposed to have a roommate, but apparently there was some program drama on her island, and she didn't show. Nice to have the space to myself.
I found it strangely amusing to go from solitude on bedrest in Kapaa to solitude on bedrest in Honolulu, and how different the two were. Whereas in Kapaa I felt trapped and anxious, in Honolulu I felt less trapped but more lonely than ever. It didn't help that no one outside of the conference could find time to have dinner.
Just when I thought things were going well, this accident acted as catalyst to cause my life to explode into tiny particles of confetti... and then someone lit a match.
I find ways to entertain myself besides doing the work that I'm really supposed to be doing on my work days, like feeding my insatiable desire for BBC English Period film series and the Tudor series, movies on the royal empire of Great Britain and the tried and true favorites of Bones and NCIS. My life has really become quite predictable and sad. Oddly enough, I feel the grips of the same depression that had such a strong hold on me back in Oahu when I realized my program was a failure. Then, I could escape and exercise my dog. Now, I must grit my teeth and bite down on the metallic taste of fate's bridal bit. I am an indentured servant to this hematoma on my leg. I must do R.I.C.E. (Rest Ice Compression Elevation) 24-7 until the bruise decides to drain away, as the consequences of not doing so are vast and complex.
I kissed goodbye my position for the derby trip to Alaska, and with a tearful but submissive tone, I told my captain that I would have to forfeit my spot on the All Stars roster until the next quarter, maybe longer. Wow. That was hard. I remember a while back when I was considering a move away from the derby... but this accident and being denied the chance to even practice has increased my passion for derby even more. I watched all of the tournament play for Western Regionals and Midwest Regionals, as well as the National Championship bouts held in Chicago. It seems that derby and coffee are the only things that keep my head above water right now. I must instill hope within that I will be able to return, for I know that the second I give up, the rest of this sweater that keeps my bones within my skin will unravel and fall to ruin at my feet.
I need derby. That's what I'm learning right now. I may not know what my purpose is in life, what my one great passion is to do for a career... but I DO know that I love derby. I need it in my life. It is my glue.
L. was glad to see me and I forged a good bond with her. I needed her to know that I'm doing everything I can to stay involved. I was a little bit pitiful with my leg propped on a chair for three days, but the sympathy it drew was a nice reminder to L. that I am still on the mend. I spent my off-time at the mall getting coffee and then retreating to my private hotel room to eat sushi and a late night pint of strawberry Häagen-Dazs. I was supposed to have a roommate, but apparently there was some program drama on her island, and she didn't show. Nice to have the space to myself.
I found it strangely amusing to go from solitude on bedrest in Kapaa to solitude on bedrest in Honolulu, and how different the two were. Whereas in Kapaa I felt trapped and anxious, in Honolulu I felt less trapped but more lonely than ever. It didn't help that no one outside of the conference could find time to have dinner.
Just when I thought things were going well, this accident acted as catalyst to cause my life to explode into tiny particles of confetti... and then someone lit a match.
I find ways to entertain myself besides doing the work that I'm really supposed to be doing on my work days, like feeding my insatiable desire for BBC English Period film series and the Tudor series, movies on the royal empire of Great Britain and the tried and true favorites of Bones and NCIS. My life has really become quite predictable and sad. Oddly enough, I feel the grips of the same depression that had such a strong hold on me back in Oahu when I realized my program was a failure. Then, I could escape and exercise my dog. Now, I must grit my teeth and bite down on the metallic taste of fate's bridal bit. I am an indentured servant to this hematoma on my leg. I must do R.I.C.E. (Rest Ice Compression Elevation) 24-7 until the bruise decides to drain away, as the consequences of not doing so are vast and complex.
I kissed goodbye my position for the derby trip to Alaska, and with a tearful but submissive tone, I told my captain that I would have to forfeit my spot on the All Stars roster until the next quarter, maybe longer. Wow. That was hard. I remember a while back when I was considering a move away from the derby... but this accident and being denied the chance to even practice has increased my passion for derby even more. I watched all of the tournament play for Western Regionals and Midwest Regionals, as well as the National Championship bouts held in Chicago. It seems that derby and coffee are the only things that keep my head above water right now. I must instill hope within that I will be able to return, for I know that the second I give up, the rest of this sweater that keeps my bones within my skin will unravel and fall to ruin at my feet.
I need derby. That's what I'm learning right now. I may not know what my purpose is in life, what my one great passion is to do for a career... but I DO know that I love derby. I need it in my life. It is my glue.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Day 35
Well, I had a good talk with L. today, the fed rep in charge of my region. She made me feel a little more secure about keeping my position, and it sounds like she had some words with my supervisor, C. They must have come to the agreement that the hiring process would take too long and they should just wait out my medical leave. I am still distrustful, however, so I am exploring other options. If I do lose the position I’ll be looking in both Kauai and Oahu. I suppose I should consider moving home to MN, too, but I really don’t want to. I love it here.
As for L. and C.'s cooperation, I would say that L. has been very understanding and flexible, and C. tried for a while but is running out of patience. I guess I don’t blame her much as it is a long time into my service and I have been appointed since the end of August... so I only got about a month of work in before the accident. I haven't made much progress for her. She is allowing me to work at home for the time being and as long as we can figure out how to make due with me coordinating things from bed, it will be okay. Yesterday was hairy... I had a huge fight with her over the phone because she was doubting my doctor's notes... she wanted to call my doctor and talk to him! Please. I don't think so. There is nothing to clarify. The notes are very specific about his instructions to stay in bed. L. talked to her yesterday and calmed her down a bit, though, as today was a little more professional and calm. I was ready to let her have it on the phone if she went into it again, but she didn’t so I held my tongue. I suppose initializing her firing me would be bad. I really just want to quit, though. So bullshit to be accused of lying when I'm in such a compromised position, with EVERYTHING to lose! I'm going to continue to fish around for other job opportunities just in case, but hopefully this blows over, I can finish my year, and find something real. Ugh. I just want this to heal so I can get back to my life. It sucks not playing derby, not being able to even go to the grocery store, not being able to even leave my house! Even my dog is suffering. He can’t even get walks right now. My roommate could be more helpful, but she isn’t... and in the end, he IS my responsibility. Still. Poor dog. He’s crawling the walls just like me!
I have to cook meals with my leg up on the counter and rely on my roommate to fetch me things from the store. I have gotten the hang of having this handicap, but it is really inconvenient and disheartening. I thought my wrist was feeling better so I took the brace off for a few days.. but the ligament damage is still giving me a lot of trouble. I was in a lot of pain after simply transferring a dirty sauté pan to the sink with that hand! It is very possible that I will need some physical therapy to get back the strength in that wrist, which is scary for me as a sculptor. Not only am I having trouble with work, but I can’t do the sport I love OR have an outlet with my art form! This is the most miserable few months of my life.
As for L. and C.'s cooperation, I would say that L. has been very understanding and flexible, and C. tried for a while but is running out of patience. I guess I don’t blame her much as it is a long time into my service and I have been appointed since the end of August... so I only got about a month of work in before the accident. I haven't made much progress for her. She is allowing me to work at home for the time being and as long as we can figure out how to make due with me coordinating things from bed, it will be okay. Yesterday was hairy... I had a huge fight with her over the phone because she was doubting my doctor's notes... she wanted to call my doctor and talk to him! Please. I don't think so. There is nothing to clarify. The notes are very specific about his instructions to stay in bed. L. talked to her yesterday and calmed her down a bit, though, as today was a little more professional and calm. I was ready to let her have it on the phone if she went into it again, but she didn’t so I held my tongue. I suppose initializing her firing me would be bad. I really just want to quit, though. So bullshit to be accused of lying when I'm in such a compromised position, with EVERYTHING to lose! I'm going to continue to fish around for other job opportunities just in case, but hopefully this blows over, I can finish my year, and find something real. Ugh. I just want this to heal so I can get back to my life. It sucks not playing derby, not being able to even go to the grocery store, not being able to even leave my house! Even my dog is suffering. He can’t even get walks right now. My roommate could be more helpful, but she isn’t... and in the end, he IS my responsibility. Still. Poor dog. He’s crawling the walls just like me!
I have to cook meals with my leg up on the counter and rely on my roommate to fetch me things from the store. I have gotten the hang of having this handicap, but it is really inconvenient and disheartening. I thought my wrist was feeling better so I took the brace off for a few days.. but the ligament damage is still giving me a lot of trouble. I was in a lot of pain after simply transferring a dirty sauté pan to the sink with that hand! It is very possible that I will need some physical therapy to get back the strength in that wrist, which is scary for me as a sculptor. Not only am I having trouble with work, but I can’t do the sport I love OR have an outlet with my art form! This is the most miserable few months of my life.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Day 34
I just had an argument over the phone with my boss. She’s infuriating. She doesn’t seem to understand why I can’t go back to work, even though I have submitted four doctor’s noted with specified instructions to stay home and elevate my foot. She wants to call my doctor, which I think is absolutely unacceptable. She has no right to talk to my doctor, does she? Am I wrong to oppose that?
It’s like she’s trying to test me to see if I’m lying, and it drives me crazy. I’ve done everything she’s asked of me. I’ve done all of the busywork she has assigned-the data entry, the email correspondence between her and other committees and students, everything. This is leaving a really bad taste in my mouth. Her distrust causes me to distrust her right back. I’m trying to follow normal procedures and doctor’s orders without jeopardizing my recovery, but at this point I do just want them to fire me and get it over with. None of this is my fault. I didn’t choose to get hit by a car on my way to work, and I certainly didn’t choose to have 2 months of bed rest. I’m in a bad spot right now and she’s putting unnecessary pressure on me to tell her something I can’t.
Dad thinks I should let her talk to my doctor, but I still disagree. I don’t trust her not to misconstrue something he says and say that he told her it was okay for me to go to work, when he clearly told me no and put it in writing. There is nothing to clarify and no confusion on the matter. I think my dad’s main argument is that it makes me look suspicious to deny her that, but I don’t think she has any right to hold conversations with my doctor, and I also don’t know how that might compromise my lawsuit or if it would do damage. I can’t get a hold of my lawyer, and it’s been 3 business days.
It’s like she’s trying to test me to see if I’m lying, and it drives me crazy. I’ve done everything she’s asked of me. I’ve done all of the busywork she has assigned-the data entry, the email correspondence between her and other committees and students, everything. This is leaving a really bad taste in my mouth. Her distrust causes me to distrust her right back. I’m trying to follow normal procedures and doctor’s orders without jeopardizing my recovery, but at this point I do just want them to fire me and get it over with. None of this is my fault. I didn’t choose to get hit by a car on my way to work, and I certainly didn’t choose to have 2 months of bed rest. I’m in a bad spot right now and she’s putting unnecessary pressure on me to tell her something I can’t.
Dad thinks I should let her talk to my doctor, but I still disagree. I don’t trust her not to misconstrue something he says and say that he told her it was okay for me to go to work, when he clearly told me no and put it in writing. There is nothing to clarify and no confusion on the matter. I think my dad’s main argument is that it makes me look suspicious to deny her that, but I don’t think she has any right to hold conversations with my doctor, and I also don’t know how that might compromise my lawsuit or if it would do damage. I can’t get a hold of my lawyer, and it’s been 3 business days.
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