More of “the cute”
This is normally the type of thing I would have called to tell my mom, probably lastnight before bed. Instead, you get to read all about it.
The girls have been using the rattiest, nastiest sippy cups for about the last two years. Neither of them should really still be using a sippy cup, but I’ll admit to the convenience, especially since Emma still wings hers around like it’s a toy, flipping it upside down and tossing it on the floor. I can’t imagine what she’d do with a cup that had no lid. Anyway, yesterday when I stopped to get bunny greens, I noticed sippy cups with straws, and decided that my big girls needed big girl cups. They were a huge hit… Wia said “Thank you for my new cup!” And Emma… well, she was too cute. She kept offering me a drink, but she would put her hand on my cheek, or under my chin. At first I thought she was just being sweet, but then it occurred to me that we adults put our hands under her chin to catch drips when she drinks out of our glasses or water bottles. It just tickled me that she would do the same, even though I was drinking out of a straw. It was just too, too much.
And now, a note to the colleague two cubicles down and across the aisle:
I like Sinatra, too, but not at the volume you like to listen to. There are other people here doing work, too, you know. It’s an office, not a concert hall.
Also, your ringtone is annoying. No one’s cellphone should whistle.
Bad girl
I’ve been kind of bad lately. Like, I know I’m doing something I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway. Today, for example, I decided to take an afternoon break. 1) I did not take a lunch break, but rather brought my veggie pizza back to my desk and checked and answered emails while I ate; and 2) I very rarely, if ever, take a break – no addiction compels me to leave my desk two or three times a day (yes, I’m looking at YOU, smokers), and so I end up working through my mornings and afternoons without so much as looking away from my monitor. So today, I took my book, my gummi bears, and a dollar for a bottle of Dr. Pepper down to the cafeteria at 3:30. Where I sat, blissfully reading, until 4:45. HAH! It was great! By the time I got back to my desk, I had just enough time to write a weekly status report, call one of my users to answer a question she left on voicemail, and log out.
The bad part is that this kind of behavior – this slacking off of work, if you will – is becoming more and more frequent. I don’t feel the responsibility I used to when I think about work; I don’t think about the downstream effects of my actions. This really started last year, probably about mid-fall, with no real rhyme or reason. I find myself very apathetic about work… I actually told someone last week that I DON’T CARE IF I GET A RAISE THIS YEAR. Wha??? I should care. I need that money… my car is eventually going to die, my water heater will go out, my washer will kick the proverbial bucket, and I have no emergency fund. Without that measly two percent (minimum) pay increase, I won’t be able to save as much as I’d hoped. Kiss those hardwood floors goodbye. Adopt a dog? How about adopt a plant. But my apathy, my bad behavior, directly impacts my year-end review, which directly impacts my “merit” increase. I’ve even talked about this with my co-workers, who are feeling similar feelings… we finally decided that we probably shouldn’t talk about it anymore because we were totally bringing each other down.
I think what it boils down to is that I’m burned out. I’m tired of seeing other people rewarded for doing their day-to-day job, and yet not getting the same treatment from my “manager”. It’s degrading and demoralizing to be constantly told that you’re wrong. To be asked to be something you’re not, and then made to feel bad for not living up to unrealistic expectations. I keep thinking I should look for something else, insist on better or more, but I just can’t bring myself to care about it that much. I don’t work to feel fulfilled, and this is not a career. It’s a job. It’s the thing I do to make money. Maybe someday I’ll figure out a way to do the thing that brings me real joy and not live in total poverty so I don’t have to worry about feeling like this anymore. What is clear, though, is that I need to make a change. Something’s got to give… there’s got to be some way to make things bearable again. Right?
I got nothin’
I’m tapped out tonight – it’s been a stressful day, and trying to think of something interesting to write is the very last thing I want to do right now. My pillow is calling my name…
Silly me… when I filled out my timesheet at work this week (we have to track our hours every week for planning and resource management), I put the actual hours I worked, which was only 34. You know, I figured it was better to be honest, since I totally did not plan to use vacation hours for the other 6. My manager rejected it. Despite the fact it was a holiday week and I was one of maybe 10 people in the entire department, and at least I bothered to come into the office (my coworker didn’t even bother to send an email Tuesday or Wednesday to let us know she was working from home). Ugh. I’m just really, really tired of everything being about whether or not I’m in the office or not, taking up space, breathing the air. I don’t like feeling like I’m just there to fill a seat… shouldn’t it be about whether or not I’m producing the desired results? Plllblllbltttt. I don’t wanna talk about work anymore. Blech.
I made a sugar cream pie for my birthday. I baked it Monday night, and it wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, but it was good enough to eat. It used to be my favorite, but that sour cream apple pie I made for Thanksgiving and again at Christmas is coming up a mighty close second… it might just overtake the current numero uno.
And that’s… it. I’m out for tonight. You stay classy, America.
Filed under bakin' and shakin', indignities, me, work | Comment (0)
