Going really bad

Well, well…Oh, boy, can we be let alone for more than a minute? … Nothing’s worse than a nervous boss who is leaving for another business trip in two days and wants to have everything settled before that time. And by “everything” I mean “every single email we have received from January 2000 to today, more or less”.
To make things worse, the Epg is still making me feel like a student who has been caught on a test without studying. Actually, worse than that: she makes me feel as if she had told me to study chapter 3 and then she asks me about chapter 12. And there is nothing I can do about it! I can only feel weak, and small, and helpless, and hopeless, and the more I try, the more mistakes I make. I’ve said this before.
It doesn’t help that we have no defined tasks, so I begin to do something and then I find out that she is working on it too, and with more information than me. And more confidence. Because she’s been doing it for 12 years, as she never forgets to remind us (two or three times a day too, in case we were not paying attention the first time).
When these things happen (like she finds a mistake I had not seen, although most of the times it is a small detail, like a date or a missing letter) my only reaction is to shut whatever I was working on, double-click on the Internet icon and wander about any page I can think of. Or write here. Or lock myself in the bathroom and cry when I am really feeling bad. Occasionally my second impulse (after dropping whatever activity I was onto) is to go get a hot chocolate from the machine; then I think better of it. Most of the times I look out of the window and think I could just quit, find another occupation, but what? So I am back to thinking that I should leave. And what for, I ask myself? It would be just my luck to find a job with another set of colleagues like these. And I am getting old. And my cv is not very good after all, so nobody would pick me.

I wanted to start writing the new chapter of the Bookclub (because I am finally back to serious reading with a wonderful book, which I plan to finish over the weekend because I’m busy tonight and tomorrow), but things are going so bad that I think I’ll go cry to the bathroom for then next half hour. Productive person, am I not?

Easter weekend, thoughts, iron deficiency

I’m not really in a writing mood these days, in spite of dreaming (I mean, dreaming at night) of pages and pages being typed on my laptop. Probably when I wake up all this night-writing has exhausted me and I don’t feel like doing some more in reality?
I’m just back to work after an Easter weekend made of long, long, long walks, chats, and relax: I watched King Kong and Shrek 2 (three times!), read a lot, enjoyed the sunshine, went to an island in the middle of the lake (packed with people, the island was! Like the whole valley decided to spend the day there, and can you blame them?), slept slept slept.
I woke up in the middle of the night (bleeding 2.20 a.m.!!! Insomnia at its worst!) with a blinding headache last night, and the consequences are the usual: I’m now tired, would rather spend the day in my bed, cannot think that it’s only the beginning of the week and that tonight I have two whole hours of training (and since I haven’t kept up with my running routine for the past week, I also have to catch up with it..brilliant).
I am also in a thoughtful mood because of my latest decisions and what has come with them: people congratulating on my choice, seeing as I was not happy at all here and knowing that leaving is definitely for the best of me; people asking what am I leaving for, and me replying that I have absolutely no idea but at least I will feel better there (I guess?); people asking when I am going to leave, and me procrastinating, saying that maybe it will be September, but if I can resist and get to save a little more money then it will be January or February 2008. So I can have some money to give the parents for the house, have a little more for myself to settle down in the beginning, and maybe even a better focus on what to do. Also, the hope remains that I can find a way out someway else, like going for the part-time job and study by myself, like finding a job for evening classes which would make me happier (always liked teaching adults), like finding a millionaire and marry him and have a lot of children (yeah, right!).
So I told mum to accept that offer from Sky and buy us a year of movies. My books are on the way and I expect to have a busy spring and summer studying and generally being busy (mentally) on my favourite subjects. On the other hand I don’t expect to be offered any of the jobs I have applied for. So I’ll give myself some more nasty time in this office and save money.
News on the house that will be, the final amount of money that should go in the original project is a hell of a lot, so the parents have decided to change plans and just make some works, to fix what’s wrong in the original two-floor house (new windows, new kitchen, plumbing and electrical system, and the outside stuff, garden and patio and all); plus, the third floor will eventually become a real apartment, and it should be mine. So it seems, but these are things to be settled too. I don’t know. I keep on saying that whatever they do is fine for me, because I keep on thinking that I will leave this place, soon or late, so brother can have the attic floor if he wants. Then I look at me and think “where do you think you’re going, useless old girl?”, and I sink and wait for the evening or the weekend to feel better.
News on the mental side: I am soon seeing a specialist for this little problem of mine (the depression, that is. I know you were all thinking of schizophrenia!). More to come on the subject.
What else?
Well, I guess I should conclude on a bright side: it’s payday this week! Technically the payslip should arrive today, but it’s never on time, so we trust it will be delivered by Thursday. Anyway. What matters is that the money arrives, right?
And I am still thinking about summer vacations and what to do, since my travelling streak is still low. Lazy girl.

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A decent sleep last night, after a good work out with lots of stretching for my poor shoulder, and an hour of reading. It is now officially announced that I am over with the S&H addition!
However, the evening was not very enjoyable after all, because I came back from the gym and found mum on the sofa playing sudoku and saying that she was not happy because of the following reasons:

- I had promised I would see a dietician and take care of my iron deficiency and I haven’t yet (and a year has passed, and the blood donors’ association has crossed my name out of the list – see later for the details);
- I am worrying her for my depressive mood and generally unsatisfied/autistic attitude (like the need to run no matter what, like choosing to stay at home instead of seeing some friend, like having these little obsessions about movies and stuff)
- The works for the house are too expensive, as said before, and now father says that it may not be convenient to have the attic floor because who knows when we get all the permits to use it as a house (long story, will spare you from that), so now the confusion is higher over what to do, how to do it, who’s to blame for all (architect friend angry because he’s been working on the project for three months and now we have to use only a bit of it, brother – and parents – generally angry because architect friend should have told us the estimated prize of all and instead he kept some 100.000 euro under the actual prize, mum disappointed because she doesn’t want anybody angry or sad and wishes she had never decided to do any work at all on the bloody house.

As a result of the latter, she spent some half hour talking to father about the cost of this and the cost of that, until brother called asking for something regarding the taxes (which also reminded me that it’s tax month and I haven’t prepared my declaration yet…brilliant), in a hurry as usual because apparently tomorrow is the deadline for the presentation of the documents or something like that.
What a nice evening.

In the end I drank my coffee and read for a couple of hours, then sank into sleep only to wake up half confused (I was dreaming of the gigantic spider I had to kill the night before in parents’ bedroom) and with the familiar tinge of desperation at the thought of seeing Epg today (yesterday she spared me from her presence).
So I keep on thinking: to leave or not to leave? Should I hope to be called for some of the jobs I have applied last week? Or should I get the subscription for Sky Cinema and be merry with my movies, my books and my mum (I sound like a child, folks, but sad as it is, I have a lot of very good friends whom I love to death, but I couldn’t live without my mum)
And I keep on thinking that a list would do good, only when I start it all I come down with is:

Pros (of being here):
My mum and the general comfort of living with her
The band (although not all the time)

Cons:
My job and all that comes with it
The generally bad situation at home with this continuous confusion about the works, together with the undeletable feeling that nothing is ever going to be sorted out, not in a million times
No possibility to change, improve, have some satisfaction anywhere

There isn’t much to say about this, is there?

Newsflash: in two weeks it is bank holiday here, and it happens to be on Wednesday. This is cool enough: a day off in the middle of the week; bless. More over, the Epg is talking about asking for Thursday and Friday off, which is even better news. Then we would be back on Monday 30th, and have another bank holiday (May 1st); still supacool, two days off in two weeks. I love these months. And to top this off, Epg is thinking about taking the whole week off, from Wednesday 25th to Wednesday 2nd. How cool is that: I can breath for a whole week.

And now, for something completely different:
How the blood donors’ association told me to xxxx off.

Prologue: my blood type is quite rare. Or so they say anyway (I’m AB negative, typical of eastern Europe, I am told. Have my parents got something to tell me…).
I think: ok, it seems like a good idea to become a blood donor, especially since my type is so uncommon. So off to the association I go. And register with them. And go for the first analysis.
Now, I am a healthy person, I eat well, do a lot of sport, don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t take drugs, have no tattoos and my ears were pierced more than 10 years ago. Nothing can go wrong.
Results come back to me a week later: iron deficiency, cannot donate blood, am recommended a visit to my gp and some iron intake. I talk to my doctor and decide against any supplements because I can’t be bothered.
Three months later I am back to the lab, and a week later guess what: I am suspended again, and recommended etc etc…Ok, off to the doctor I go and then straight to the supplements’ shelf.
Three months (and lots of supplements) later I am back to the lab.
A week later I am called for the donation: I skip work and happily go to the lab and you know what? I can only donate plasma! Which means a terrifying procedure of: sucking my blood out, separating blood from plasma, injecting my blood in. Terrific morning! A happy couple of hours and nothing to read! And bad music from the radio in the lab! And lots of people looking suspiciously at me (why???)! At the end of it all, more blood is demanded for a general test to see that everything is fine.
And…..
A week later I am suspended again!!!
Ok, no more implements from now, who cares, I think.
But.
Three months later they call me again, and I tell them that I’d rather not have them spend money over tests where the obvious result would be my lack of iron and my suspension. They say “no problem, come over, it’s ok”, and so I go.
Two days later I receive a phone call from one of the doctors:

- Hello, this is doc from the lab!
(me, in my mind: “Great. I am probably going to die or they found some weird disease”)
- So, the results have come back today, and I hope you won’t take this too bad, but the iron is still at 3.
(me, in my mind: “Great! Last time it was down at 2! I’ve improved!” – Note from the author: minimum value for an adult: 5)
- So, what I wanted to say is, we have thought that it would be better to stop bothering you with requests of tests, because you know, even if your values improved…by the way, are you very thin?
(me, in my mind: “Yeah, right! I wish!”) – Uhm, no, not really.
- I see. Do you do a lot of sport?
- Actually yes, I run 5 miles almost every day, I go to the gym, and all that jazz. And no, I don’t eat meat very often: you know, the Mediterranean diet? Lots of cereals, vegetables, fruit, some fish…granted to live for 237 years?
- Oh, yes, I see. Well, you see, you should really change your habits if you wanted to get that iron back. Or you should live on supplements. And in any case, if you ever got the correct value of iron, what do you think we would do, we would let you keep it! For your own good!
(me, in my mind: “Right…so I should eat red meat four times a day and stop exercising, hu? And how about getting to drink a bottle of red wine on a daily basis, for the sake of my iron intake and absorption?”) - Uh-hu, I understand.
- So, you see, I’m sorry, but what can we do, just don’t take it too bad, ok, it’s for you that we are doing this, so, you know, I mean we want you to keep your iron and feel well!
- Yeah, ok, I understand. Don’t worry, I expected it, it’s fine. Thank you.
- Oh, ok, then! Bye!

Thus ends my story (and my contribution) to the magical world of blood donors.

One more weekend (March, 24-25)

Running, running, running.
I spent the weekend running, most of the afternoon both on Saturday and Sunday. It felt so good (although not exactly so good on Sunday when I had the most gigantic blister you could imagine) (today I can barely walk, by the way, thank to that blister).
Anyway.
Interview in an hour, and I have just decided that I will not take this half hour off, since the place is five minutes away from here and I can be there at 12.05 and it won’t be a problem. They don’t expect me earlier than this time anyway, because they’ve been told that I work until 12.
I don’t know what to do and I haven’t talked to my boss’s wife yet. But then this morning I had a problem with a price, and when I checked I saw that all the other prices weren’t the same I had in my notebook. So I went asking Epg, and I found out that there is a new price list I wasn’t aware of, because nobody bothered to tell me or give me a copy; this is in spite of the fact that the boss told Epg that every time they’ve completed a price list she should make a copy for me or copy me in the email she sends to the customer or agent. Thank you very much for making me part of the team, hu?
I am so tired. When I saw that price list I just felt tears coming up and I had to smile and ask politely if I could take that sheet and make a copy, please.
Dammit! This is not fair!
Her new working time is from 9 till 5, with one hour lunch break. Which makes me feel somehow well, because I have two hours virtually by myself. Still, I don’t know what to do. Tonight, though, after collecting all the courage that I have, I will talk to the boss’s wife. After Epg leaves, that is! First I want to see what happens in that interview, what they can offer, what the place is like and all that.
News from the weekend is that I have watched so much tv I didn’t think I could do it, meaning that I have never-ever-ever felt so close to an inanimate object like during these past two days. The weather helped, I must say, thanks to the rain and cold and the generally crappy sky and air we’ve had.
You see, after some more boring rehearsals where I left right away since there were none of my friends and I was pissed off about it;
after going to see yet another set of flooring for the house-to-be;
after preparing lunch and cleaning the kitchen;
after running 5 miles and stretching and showering;
after tidying my room and uploading more music files on my laptop;
after trying to make a cd for David (me and music-makers do not go along well, and I can’t figure out why. Still, I lost almost an hour trying to do that stupid thing!);
after more running and stretching;
after tidying the job files on my desktop;
after more cleaning of the house and tidying of papers;
after writing for a while and complimenting upon my writing skill (because I read last weeks’ brainstorm and it was beautiful…what drugs was I on that day? Must have been all the chocolate…);
after ALL THIS, there was still so much time to go before bed time, and even though I had also read for a while, the call was too strong, and I just had to do it…
So, one episode on Friday night after rehearsals…
Saturday, only two episodes, and just because “Law & Order - Special Victim Unit” was on…
But Sunday, folks…Sunday was a massacre.
The morning was a useless sequence of talks with brother, and with mother, and music files and idle thinking over money and books (don’t ask); in the afternoon I thought I wouldn’t run because of my bad foot, so I watched a couple of S&H before setting off with some writing or music work; then I thought that I could try to run, after all, as I was restless as usual and I knew that if I didn’t move I wouldn’t sleep at night, and I went on the treadmill, for more than an hour, while thinking confusing thoughts about music, and cinema, and how to put the two together, and trying not to think about work and about today’s interview. Follows shower and preparation of my early dinner (apple, yogurt, a marmalade sandwich); then I decided to do something I never do, that is spend the rest of the day in bed, with my dinner and my dvd…and from 6 o’clock to almost midnight, there is nothing else to say…

A TOTAL AMOUNT OF 8 EPISODES, OF WHICH

FIVE PLAYED ONE AFTER THE OTHER,

NON-STOP!

And boy did I laugh! I remembered some of them, the stories I mean, but not the fun and irony and silly stuff going on, and I really really really liked it, so much that I thought it was a good idea to just go on watching until bedtime to feel better.
And I tell you, if I could, I would have watched a couple more, just for the fun of it. A real Starsky & Hutch marathon.
Not bad for one who says I rarely watch tv, hu?

And now, for something completely different: the interview. I must write this to clear my mind, although I don’t think that’s going to help.
So, the interview was ok: small office, two young guys and a girl, pretty friendly, some casual talk and an explanation of the activities of the firm. It looked all right, and they seemed quite convinced that I would be the right choice, even asking me when I would be able to start, and all that.
By the way, I would be their first choice because of my experience…
In a couple of hours I’ll go talk to the boss’s wife, and I will try to tell her how uncomfortable I feel. How I am not a part of the team, and how difficult it has become to work here, not to mention how useless I feel I have become. Then who knows. Technically, accepting the new proposal means no change in terms of pay, and a short “testing” time which, if I want, can be arranged to be straight with the firm, not through the job agency, which is what I most worried about. So, on the practical point of view it would be a change for better, for a smaller, quieter office with lots of work I could easily handle, with three decent colleagues and a more relaxed attitude (and just one woman, remember. This would really make my day).

Update by instalments - one

(Monday, 19th)

It is the beginning of another week and these are the main issues I’d like to point out:

- taking anti-allergies pills sucks: I am so drowsy I can barely stand up. I look like I’m on drugs and I don’t even get the high side of it.

- I washed my car on Friday and guess what: it’s raining today! After some 6 months without rain! I just knew it would…

- …and the rain means also that taking anti-allergies pills is not worth because I don’t really need them now, since pollen is not around now.

- First thing I am told today at work from the secretary is “next time you take a day off tell me too, ok? Because we were here alone and we didn’t know where you were”. Now, I know I didn’t tell you PERSONALLY, but surely you’ve heard me talking for an entire week of how on Friday I would go for blood analysis and such, right? And didn’t that make you think that MAYBE I would not be in?

- An hour later I hear the same by Epg. As if she minded telling me about her not being in last week for a whole afternoon, or being in two hours later the day before. No comment.

- I ate a lot of chocolate yesterday! I was possessed, I swear! Ok, ok, on Saturday I spent the whole afternoon cycling and then went home on foot (2 km on a hill), and on Sunday I also walked 6 km. Not to mention the super work-out on Thursday night (B&S guy shocked..the guy underestimates me!) But still. What is going on with me? (got a couple of answers, will spare you from that, be thankful now).

- Now, first the drowsiness for those useless pills; next will be the low pressure wave, like every summer, when I walk around like a ghost and I wake up only after 5 pm…good for a run but work is murder. Nothing else, I wonder?

- Oh, yes, something else, on the side of good news: I am back to writing. Seriously. I did write a lot yesterday, as I was trying to wake up after being unconscious on the sofa for a couple of hours in spite of Hitchcock on tv. My brain was over-flooding with ideas and things to write, so I got lost after a short while but kept writing none the less. This cauldron I have now created is the ground for a couple of interesting things…got to keep awake and work on those babes…(and I still had time for three episodes of my beloved…).

- Last but not least, I think I will be working in August: boss wants to keep the office open and the secretary’s already said that she won’t be there, whereas I’m quite sure that Epg will want to be home too because kindergarten’s closed. So I guess it will have to be me. And this is fine for me, mind! I’ll have the office by myself, with air conditioning vs. the unbearable heat outside; the telephone will never ring because every firm and factory is closed at that time of the year; there will be very little to do, just the archive and maybe some deliveries; I will have time to write and do all my research on Internet and everything should be all right. I think.

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(Tuesday, 20th)

Here’s another day…boss not around this morning, will be here in the afternoon to superwork over the German files and the Mexican files, and can I point out that it is not likely to get ANYTHING accomplished? Not to be pessimistic but…
At lunch time I am actually going to another job agency (the same of two weeks ago, only in my town), for an offer I applied to some days ago. The girl knows me and she called me yesterday, describing the job in details (which they do only when they have in mind that YOU are the right person). I’m going there so she can tell me more(like what, I wonder? She told me everything yesterday!) and I can decide if it’s worth a try. Which seems likely. I guess it depends on how much I would be paid, now. This is definitely going to be a future update, and hopefully a good one. I can already picture myself giving notice here, and taking some 12 days off (vacation I have earned so far) to run, write, read, unwind and get ready for a new start. Somehow it feels good to know that maybe I can leave this gloomy place with the confidence of someone who’s already got a new place to go. Not an opportunity everybody has.

In other news, I have stopped taking those pills, and am now thinking about homeopathy or such. More on this interesting subject to follow (bet you can’t wait).

And finally, I oh so want to leave the country and move to England or…nearly everywhere, really. I have this incredible feeling of “the good ol’ times” taking hold of me and wrapping me and not letting me go, and I tell you, it’s awful. I think about the dinners at the Green House, about cycling at night to go to Tesco, about the breakfast table and bowls of crunchy cereals eaten in silence while the whole house is asleep after yet another wild night. I think about the campus and the gym, about the tables of the libraries and the benches outside, I think about the Students’ Union and the laundry room, about the pub and the coffee stand, about the classes and the streets.
Boy, it was an awful time, to be true: I put on weight because of all that bad food and beer, I had no friends for what seemed a lifetime, I had terrible housemates and no money.
Eventually I met the best friends of all times (all thanks to Shakespeare..long story), and spent the best three months of my life. Never a problem. Never an argument or anything like that. Only hugs and laughters and dinners together, and music and words.
And this incredible feeling of warmth.
It’s what I remember best: the warmth of the Green House, the warmth of the sun, the warmth of my friends’ hugs, the warmth of the colours in the pictures.
I miss that time. Indeed I do. I miss those friends. Their voices. Their smiles.

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(Wednesday, 21st)

On Wednesday morning…after a terrible Tuesday afternoon half spent crying in the bathroom.
I am scared.
Boss came in and said “come to my office, without the papers”. Uhm, prep talk coming up.
I’m scared.
What can I say?
That the Epg doesn’t like the way I work because I don’t do things like she’d want me to? That she wants to be the one who gives the orders and doesn’t accept that I have learnt something and can manage to do things by myself? That there are things that I know and that she doesn’t because she’s been away for a whole year and a hell of a lot of things have happened and still she wants to know more than me – like the packing of that stuff for Russia? How can I say all this without sounding like it’s all my fault and I am the only one who doesn’t go along with the other girls? How can I say this without feeling bad and without starting to cry, since I feel so low that yesterday I cried all the way to the gym (in the car and from the parking lot to the gym itself, until I met mum’s colleague and thought I’d better stop, in case she told my mum and she got worried). I find no reason to work because whatever I do is wrong and in any case nobody pays attention, they only notice the mistakes (which are rare, mind you: it’s not like I get everything wrong every day. It’s just a vicious circle, the more I am nervous the more I make mistakes, the more mistakes I make the more nervous I become…); I am also scared of doing things because I don’t like it when she points out every stupid tiny detail, and questions me over things I cannot have done just by myself (example: “why did you tell them this price for this product?”…. WHAT DO YOU THINK, SMART ASS? BECAUSE THE BOSS TOLD ME!!! What does she want to prove when she asks me these things?). I am scared of doing things because I never know if I have been given all the information and what if I haven’t? More shouts in my direction, and I can’t bear that.
I am low today too. I went to bed very early last night ( I was watching my favourite movie, The Usual Suspects, because it is so capturing that I cannot think about anything else) and I woke up earlier than usual this morning (some time after six…still sleepy but not apt to fall asleep again). My friend at the gym yesterday suggested that I take some days off on sick leave. I can just go to the doctor and explain the situation: he will call for a beginning nervous breakdown, I’m sure, because that’s what I’m going through, and he will give me a couple of weeks. Gym friend considers it to be a revenge, because I would leave Epg alone with the amount of papers to follow up with no help; me, I see it as a chance to get some time off and not worry, safe feeling extra bad when it’s time to go back. Anyway, I don’t know. Maybe I will really call sick one of these days.
In the meantime, I went to the job agency yesterday, and there is a chance I may be able to change; what worries me is that for the first months I wouldn’t be under the firm but under the job agency, with no certainty that at the end of that time I will be confirmed. Also, who knows about the wage? But then I say, if they pay me 100 euros less it doesn’t matter, as long as I am in a better place: mental health is priceless.