Archive for category irrational

existential crisis (g2)

I believe all of us go through various stages of our lives where we look up and suddenly think, “I HATE my life right now.”

I did that just before I got a divorce. I did the same when I hated the job and the town I lived in and just found out I was going to be a parent and moved a couple thousand miles back.

I had the same  when Spawn was a few years old and my career was… well, really fucking boring and leaving me strapped. It was mindless, repetitive, and just when I was done and updating my resume, I received a call from a former boss who wanted to lure to me their current company. Not only would I be using more of my brain, it held a significant pay raise.

It was great too, for a while. But one of my co-workers was as mercurial as they come and I was often walking on eggshells. The work itself was great and I was learning a ton, but the environment… not so much. However, a friendly buyout that turned hostile takeover nixed that job for all of us. The best time I had there was when the mercurial one jumped ship early on and the rest of us just didn’t give a shit anymore.

I landed this job right as I was ending that one. The work itself is a mostly mindless again, but the pay, on paper, is better. What I get to take home though, is significantly less than it was at my last job and although I know the benefits are a part of that, I didn’t think they were that big of a chunk.

We’re given no authority over our own position, but then they complain that no one takes initiative. Neither owner can keep their hands out of the cookie jar when things are good, and don’t hesitate to jump your shit when they aren’t. Hell, the CFO’s mom just died last week and one of the owners commented to her yesterday “What the hell is wrong with you, you look like your dog died?” She broke down so badly she had to go home.

Right now, things aren’t so great and its all to do with that fact that when we’re in our busy profitable season, the owners couldn’t buy new toys fast enough, despite my boss continually telling them we would need to sock away what we could for the lean season. They assume no one has their grand vision,  so any counsel is ignored.

This is also when I’m told my communication needs work. I’m the connection the outside world comes to when they want information and when things aren’t going so well, that communication increases by several fold. It means I have to come in and choose whether I’m going to do my job or just sit there and get back to people and I do balance both. But the bottom line is I’m never going to be able to make someone happy if I can’t give them what they were promised and that’s what they want me to do.

So I hate my job. I hate where I live. I hate that I hate both so much that I’m both restless and uninspired to do even the little things. I hate the debt I hold for a degree that has proven nothing but worthless and I feel that it will inhibit everything else I do for the rest of my life.

I want to move, I want to have a cafe, on the side of a cliff with a view to the ocean and I want it too fucking cold to see even a single surfer unless they are batshit insane.

But for not, I would settle for moving to the area where I hope my kid’s future school is and get a job that lets me take home the amount I was promised, or at least a significantly bigger portion than current.

I want to get just a little ahead instead of struggling so far behind.

I want to be inspired.

I want to be challenged mentally.

I feel like a corpse in motion.


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yankee heather is now furniture (g2)

I have finally settled my anger over the melodramatic bullshit my co-worker has inflicted upon me. I realized I’m not so much mad at her, she can’t help being the elitist fuckwad that she is. I’m more angered by how it was handled by her superior.

I have my shared mailbox access back. I don’t think Yankee Heather does though. the arrangement is I have to forward everything to her and CC her boss when I do. That last part was my suggestion, at least until the petty bullshit is done + six months or until she quits from being “picked on.”

I had a conversation with her boss that as far I was concerned there were no problems other than her pathetic retaliation to cause turmoil that was based on nothing. Everything I do is based on a philosophy of being transparent and completely documented and I’d be happy to show her how I organize anything. You don’t accuse a person who can produce years of archived emails of deleting shit. It’s just a bit too obvious what you’re doing and my seniority here is longer.

Shortly after the accusation, Yankee Heather started being super friendly.

What the hell? Can anyone explain that? Accuse someone of random bullshit because you’re incapable of having an adult conversation then act like you did nothing and you’re besties?

I don’t function this way. Once I’ve hit my limit, I’m done… completely.

So I didn’t respond.

I stopped talking to her at all, unless it is a specific work-related topic and I have to. When they told me to train her on something, I wrote up a tutorial with pictures and emailed it to her, her boss and my boss. Now everyone is completely aware of my training and anything said.

If no one else is in the office, I skip saying hello or goodbye, I don’t make chitchat with anyone while she’s around and I leave when I’m done. She’s uncomfortable. I’m enjoying the first peace I’ve had in weeks, no…. months.

She was put over international accounts. The dipshit who hails northern education superior to southern education tried to get my boss to “correct” the entry for Switzerland because “the spelling was all kinds of crazy.”


Yankee Heather didn’t know that Swaziland was a country in Africa.

I wonder if she even knows Africa is a continent. I learned this in school. Her automatic assumption was that being surrounded by Southerners, it must just be our backwoods edukayshun.

And yes, I misspelled that intentionally in case any of you have the same mindset as Yankee Heather.

I piped in long enough to explain the country abbreviation for Switzerland was CH, like CHF being Swiss Francs, and she was looking in the wrong area of the alphabet for the country she needed.

She said that was stupid that it didn’t start with an S. I responded that it would only be stupid if they called themselves “Switzerland” too, but they don’t.

The foreign accounts are going to be very interesting while she’s over them…

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the little ones talk sex (g2)

Inevitably in my family if we get together long enough, the dick jokes and dirty innuendo come out. We have a small subgroup among in my family who will declare loudly that everything we say is awful and we should be ashamed, but secretly they are right with us and we usually take a jab they might need to get some.

I don’t know if they feel some parental obligation to fight it, or if they just want brownie points to keep them out of hell.

It was no different with my little cousins. I’m not sure if its due to the fact I recognize them as no longer the darling cherubs of their childhood, but young adults on the adventure of life or not, but I’ve never felt the need to scold them for anything they wanted to say, except perhaps the sibling hate speech to one another. I’d love to carve that out like cancer. They’ve never held back either.

As the evening progressed I kind of wish we’d migrated to someplace involving couches and coffee and/or wine so the chatter didn’t have to ever end. The topic of sex and relationships of course came up. The little sister firmly declared she didn’t care for sex and would rather not do “that” for the most part.

My quick reply was of course that she must be doing it wrong, which seemed to be our eldest aunt’s problem as well.

I might be biased…

No, no… I’m not. Little sister is fucking gorgeous and has suitors from both sides of the fence that would be more than happy to lick the bottom of her boots if she asked them. She has no clue the vast power she possesses. In this, she is much like her half-sister. The difference being is her half-sister does understand her power and has used it quite a lot in her life, often to disaster, and only toning it down in recent years.

Don’t get me wrong, the older sister is beautiful, tall and graceful. But there is just this something some people possess that seems to render those around them completely subjugated. Helen of Troy would have HAD to be one of these people. I have about three cousins (suspect four, but that one keeps it firmly under control so I cannot verify), all female, who have this ability as well.

The older sister seems to be exploring her oats these days. I see a ton of myself in her while she spoke of some of her relationships and alluded to conquests. She wants so much to open her heart to something real, and from the sound of it, to one in particular, but she is equally fearful of being rejected so she keeps this wall up. It bites you in the ass when you cannot be vulnerable, you just come off as ice cold because people eventually get tired of trying to get over that wall.

I had to smile because some of the things were almost verbatim to things I’d declared at the same age, so utterly convinced I’d had this relationship shit all figured out.

I hadn’t a clue.

By the time I could even think of how to respond, it was time to pack it in and leave.

If anything I wish I could tell her that you cannot make your heart tough enough to withstand the hurt of having it broken if you don’t expose it to the possibility of having it loved thoroughly first.

Building walls, only turns what’s inside to mush… useless and unspent. Exposure is what makes it more malleable, adaptable, bendable… not breakable.

You never really regret trying. You regret when you don’t.

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i feel happy…i feel happy (g2)

I had a luscious amount of time off, reveled in it like you would not believe, and really, really, really did not want to go back to work…. at all. Ever.

It’s moments like this you remember that your life has become all about a vicious cycle of paychecks and there is nothing about it that really gives you any joy. Even though my annual salary is more than I used to make at my last job, the actual money I get to take home is significantly less than I was pulling four years ago… while contributing to a retirement. I’ve lowered every bill I have and I still cannot afford it.

The medical account wasn’t at the other spot, so that does play a factor,  but doesn’t amount to even half the money I’m missing these days. Of course, when you have student loans, they only see the before tax amount. Trying to get them to comprehend anything else is inexcusable and some failing on your own.

I guess that’s true. It’s something I should have noted my first year here and done what I could to find somewhere else to work instead. Back then it was a nicer place to work co-worker wise but it had a bad financial situation that spoke to the fixer in me. Apparently, I can only have one or the other working properly at any one time.

Yankee Heather and I were moved to a shared mailbox. I like them, it makes sense, it keeps others from having to remember each and every person and still be confident you will get an answer.

I used to think I was just the faster of the two in organizing it, considering about 90% of it was mine anyway. Anything that belonged to Yankee Heather was put in a directory for her alone. It wasn’t a great system, but it worked.

So the fates saw fit, when it was time to go back to the grind, to give me a nice fever and a bad cold. I felt guilt and was restless, so I checked the work email from home to see 298 unread emails.

Apparently, I wasn’t faster. I was simply the only one bothering to check the email at all.

This became ironic….

After weeks and weeks of hot/cold behavior towards me, I finally managed to get Yankee Heather alone and asked her if she had some beef with me. She said no. I asked if she was sure. She did the confused “noooo?” unconvincingly.

The facade shorted the second I asked if that was the case, could she please cut out the passive-aggressive Heathers level bullshit.

That’s when the yelling started. I was unprofessional. She didn’t like my tone. I had no business checking behind her work (that one confused me, but some of the stuff I do is preventative measures for errors for everything in the system and it does include hers). I was very unprofessional (again) to which I asked if she really preferred to do this kind of thing in an HR office because I thought we saw it the same way on that point. Then she blurted out she’d just been written up for being unprofessional and she wasn’t going to have it happen again. I asked how that was my fault, but she was gone.

The next day, I’m blocked out of the shared mailbox and now the VP forwards our email to us.

The insinuation was there were “missing things.”

I can reproduce every single email I’ve ever written ever since I started working here. I moved over every email I had out of my personal box (as long as it wasn’t personal, which was deleted) over to the shared one so everything I did and said was completely transparent. So all of this is bullshit misdirection of the emotionally immature.

Had this been my boss, she would have been swift and exacting like a pediatric neurosurgeon and this would have been long over. But the VP believes this person she hand-picked is made of gold in spite of all the apparent evidence to the contrary (the write -up was a surprise). The VP also secretly loves the drama, so she gives passive-aggression a corner office and buys it lunch. Weeks later, we’re still having our email forwarded when it was only going to be “two days, three at most.”

I have come across this personality twice before, one around my age, one from the generation before and all I know is that this will get worse until one of us is gone.

So, I updated my resume and sent it off with two placement agencies so far with the goal to relocate sometime in the summer.

I started tackling everything on my desk, every single item on a to-do list of “it can wait until I get other more important things done.” Anything that needed scanning, got scanned, named, filed. Small and large housekeeping level bullshit I’ve avoided because there were higher priority items, is all getting done.

It’s my way: leave things as clean as I can for whoever is next.

I was so caught up, that I read a book one Friday. I had nothing else.

I also got my review… after 3 years of nothing, and under the pretense they revamped the way they did the reviews, I only rated mid-range. It was worse than my last when their complaint was I didn’t eat lunch. I got a small raise and yet again I was told I need to work on communication.

I’m getting fucking tired of hearing this. It’s like a broken fucking record replayed by the VP that started during a time when most of my day was spent “communicating” nicely that we couldn’t pay anyone.

Translation: “why can’t you make anyone happy that we’re not paying them?”

You know what happens when you owe someone?

They call, they write, then call again. If they could show up at your house, they would. Hell, they’d call your mom if they could find their number. We sure as hell did when it was from our end (Seriously, we called a customer’ mother….). What they never said was “wow, that person just doesn’t communicate effectively when they told me they would check on our payment schedule and get back to me, I should recommend they work on that.”

You know what people want to know when you owe them?

When its coming.

That’s it.

Since I didn’t know that a good majority of the time, nothing was effective.

Don’t get me wrong. I get there is a lesson with everything and I asked for examples. I said walk me through a scenario when I had done something that was lacking in the communication area and how I could have done better.

I left feeling nothing but frustrated because all I was given was the most broad and ambiguous of answers. Trump kind of answers. Long, nonsensical word salad with no actual content.

It makes you wonder what the fuck the point was of bringing up something you could not cite any kind of demonstration for? In almost four years, I’ve done nothing to give you one example, even a vague one you can point to and give me some direction on how I’m not communicating to your standard?

So after a year of putting aside the pepcid bottle, I’m back on it. And right now, just typing all of this out is giving me such an epic headache that I feel like my eyeballs will pop.

I also asked a couple co-workers from other departments if they could give me feedback on this area. I figured people I knew well enough would be more forthcoming if there is a problem. So far, still nothing.

At this point, the only thing I can venture to guess is that the VP is mainly complaining that she wants to know every move and fart I make. It would make sense, given her character. Doing remedial bullshit gives her something to complain about since it detracts from “her real job” and makes her feel important. She complained about having to forward email, but it was her idea to set it up. Her real job is basically to balance the co-owners bank book and take his shit. Past that, everything else has sort of … created? In her head or his doesn’t really matter. However, there is a reason that no matter how long she is out, things run as they always have… but with less drama.

We seem to conflict a lot on the way we see things. She reports everything she overhears to HR.  I tend to believe you clean your shit in-house and always have a unified front. Unless it is something about retirement, benefits or something I have grounds for a lawsuit on, I have no reason to take anything to HR. Petty melodramatic crap should be able to be ironed out in a single conversation and eliminated. I don’t care if I hate your guts, anyone outside our department should think we’re besties.

And when it comes to communication, trust the people you hired to do a job unless given a real cause to doubt.  There is a culture here that is based on tattling. The VP is very much one of the worst offenders, but then will become equally irate when its done to our department. I appreciate the latter, but her karma really works against us. We have a couple of managers who LOVE to try to report our department for not doing our job.

Unfortunately, by the time I’ve even had a chance to see it and respond to resolve it, its already had half a dozen unrelated people flipping their shit over nothing. Not once  has the source of the discourse not also been the actual cause of the problem, and given my track record of saving emails, I usually have a lot of proof to shut it down.

But its too late, they’d flipped their shit and now it has no outlet so we still get the backlash. I’ve yet to figure out how that works.

As for Yankee Heather, they decided to bandage the gunshot wound and are trying to separate us further workwise. I made a list of things I’d happily turn over for Yankee Heather to do instead. I’ve done this dance before. It never works. I pointed out that when you had more than one person doing the same thing, they were going to inevitably travel into one another’s territory and most people should not only find that doable, but pleasant. If they didn’t, there was no amount of separation that fixes a person’s character.

The VP said she was aware of everything that was going on and they would do their best to handle it and and address it when she could.


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kicking diabetes ass: week…. huh, google says I finished 8 weeks 2 days ago (g2)

So apparently, my 8 weeks is up.

My diet buddy immediately wanted to schedule a celebratory outing at our favorite burger joint. I think diet buddy is trying to make this translate into places of temptation. I’ve already been doing this, but apparently they feared trying it. I wanted to ease back into the real world without going nuts in it.

Personally, I would have preferred a giant boat of fucking sashimi. I haven’t had sushi at all in this time and I miss it. Sashimi is a perfectly acceptable alternative. Sure a flash fried roll of some sort would be awesome, but I’m not there yet.

I mentioned that my eight weeks ended to Spawn when I got home and they just said “huh, well kind of too late to change now after all this effort.”

What a great answer.

I do plan on hitting a wing and ale place at some point, I don’t like potatoes but I like raw fries (floppy, thank you, with loads of malt vinegar) – don’t ask, and although I inhale my food when I eat, I’m eating less overall.

In all, it wasn’t as stellar as I thought it was going to be. There was no nipple scars from chest tape going across the finish line, no cheering, no passing out in the pavement and thanking everything to have to made it. I think my main thought was “huh, that got here faster than I thought it would.”

I’m still not where I want to be weight-wise, of course, this was a tiny amount of time. Yes, my pants are looser, my shirts fit better, the water weight in my legs is finally starting to fuck off and is mostly gone, I’m sleeping better, I’m moving better and with less (not none yet) pain. But I’ve a 6 year jagged track to reverse and I intend to do that in a lot less time.

So although yes, I won’t adamantly abstain from everything now, but this is where the cycling has to begin, My body freaks out when I don’t go by a routine. I was off to a good start because I was doing extreme things it couldn’t predict and plan for. I will have use that information in order to make sure my body stays in a constant state of WTF?! until I’m back to a state I want to be in: High one day, extreme low the next 3, week of normal, two weeks of low cal/carb, etc.

It’s all ok…. because I still have cheese ;p

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kicking diabetes ass: week 7 ish?…ok, so low carb pizza totally kicked ass (g2)

Spawn and I have been craving pizza like mad. Pizza in and of itself and the toppings I like on them, NONE of them are bad. It’s that mutha effin’ crust that kicks a diabetic’s ass.

I found one recipe on for a pizza with a crust made from cheese and egg.


This doesn’t even remotely sound appetizing to me so I held off and kept searching.

Then I found this one:


The Older Brother’s Oldest Son’s Faux Carb Pizza

I’d never heard of the Fathead movie. I did watch the movie Supersize Me that it was made to openly mock though. Of course, what I got from the latter was:

  • McDonald’s had unhealthy food (no shit, sherlock)
  • His girlfriend is all about vegan
  • Diet can make a huge impact

I completely agree with the first and last and don’t give a shit about the middle one. It got a lot of backlash because he didn’t post a log of what he ate, didn’t use some scientific method, was full a shit on the whole panic part where his doc and gf begged him to stop… hell, I don’t know. I got the vibe it was meant to shock and create a frenzy of fear in America’s overall health, but I tend to not really get sucked in easily and I tend to agree that diet makes a huge impact.

I just tend to lean to the side that low carb (what Fathead trumpets) is the better impact, for me. If gluten-free, vegan is your jam, then that makes an impact for you. Johns Hopkins and their high fat diet that treats epilepsy… awesome. Anytime someone takes a leap to change what they already consume to treat the bad things they feel, I tend to think that is a smart move even if its not completely successful. But there is never one answer to everything or everyone.

All I knew is my ass wanted pizza. So we made this and topped it with bacon, chicken sausage, portabello, and although I wanted to put spinach on it, we didn’t have any.

I had to use a little more almond flour than listed to get a doughy enough feel to start spreading it. Spreading also ended up being more of an oiled hand quickly patting it into a pizza like shape as I didn’t have the paper. I didn’t have to poke any more holes in it after 8 minutes and I wasn’t able to hold it to eat it. I will probably play with another egg and a bit more flour or more cheese. I dusted it with sea salt and garlic, fresh oregano, basil and Spawn tossed some rosemary on it for fun.

It fucking rawked, taste-wise. Even with a fork, it felt, smelled and soothed our soul like pizza.

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kicking diabetes ass: week… um, 6? … some updates (g2)

ok, I realized I got into stuff that was going on but not a lot about what I ate so I’ll kind of go over that a bit too. I didn’t realize some of you guys were getting anything out of this,  I kind of felt like I was just ranting about the flows and ebbs going on. But COOL, if you get something out of it…. even that a slacker like me can do it, so you CERTAINLY can, that’s awesome.

When we picked blueberries, yes I ate some. At most, a dozen. The crop was a bit tart this year. Usually, I eat so much I poop purple. They are mid-range in the carb friendly scale.

Spawn has been AWESOME about learning low carb, and I’ve even discovered a pizza recipe I plan to try when I can devour half the damn thing. I’ll share it if it ends up worth it (why waste your time otherwise, right?). I think I might be able to convert G-uno to my darkside on this one… seriously, fucking cream cheese in the crust? Oh hellya.

Spawn has usually used meat+veg as their go-to for dinner (though they still hesitate to think of meat as low carb sometimes), only occasionally attempting to assemble a salad with mucho questions and input from my end while they do it. However, they make me small portions and sometimes supplement with another shake if they don’t feel it was enough.

The 4th soiree at the Yankee’s? I ate the hell out of some food, man. This is the same person who digs at me about never eating or never leaving for lunch. I had a small steak, a burger with cheese on it only (no bread, no toppings), 4 whole tortilla chips and a mutha load of watermelon salsa (I’m addicted to new things and this was really new to me AND watermelon was oddly enough on the low carb list of fruits… weird I know), or better known as probably .75 to 1 full cup of salsa. I had some of my own onion dip, but I brought baby carrots (ate 5) and celery (ate half a damn bunch) so I had things to dip with. I did not eat at all before we got there, other than water.

I had one sugar-free daiquiri (and was soundly mocked for drinking a girly-looking pink drink) with about half a cup of muscato added to it. I have no damn clue what the hell was in that last one, I just promised to pay penance for it later. I was so full, I was in pain and this was over 4+ hours. Of course, I ate nothing the rest of the day.

Generally, I stick with crepes when I go for breakfast choices, since they have less egg and they are less filling than most omelets. The exception being Kim and her little cafe. Her omelets are very light and just perfectly filling, with one piece of rye toast. Kim is a very, very health-minded cook, but you’d never know it just from the taste. She scoffs at store bought salad dressings, for example, and makes everything herself. Even the rice she uses is a lower GI, diabetic-friendly kind (no, I haven’t tried it, its still too many carbs).

I have days where I get super hungry, so I eat. I have experimented with old places I like to go and see how I can finagle in a way I can eat it, but for good. My favorite burger joint is more than happy to nix the bread and add a salad. That’s cool. They don’t even drown it in dressing (on the side) since I always leave most of it behind.

I’m mostly surprised how much I am not craving sugar. I used to HAVE TO HAVE chocolate after dinner. It never had to be much, but I had to have it. I suppose the protein shakes abate the sweet cravings since they too are sweet, but its not the same… I’m not missing it. I miss mac and potatoes, but I found that a tiny bite of Spawn’s is enough to give me the mental happy high without the physical repercussions. I’m cool with that too.

The only problem I’m still having issues with is what the hell can I use in my coffee aside from sugar. Splenda has been my go to, but I hate it.

  • honey? kind of misses the point.
  • Stevia? I will punch someone in the throat if I have to taste that shit again.
  • xylitol? isn’t that the shit in gum?

Has anyone found a sugar alternative that actually doesn’t taste like shit and can be enjoyed without gagging in a hot beverage?

I did finally have to confess to work, though I said basically it was a low-carb experiment to bring down my A1C. I did NOT tell anyone I was eating super low calorie as well. Again, didn’t want to hear any shit from the all knowing VP.

My diet buddy is about to break the 200 mark, their main goal. Their sugar has not responded as well as mine has, but they have been kicking ass on putting in more activity in their routine and knocking off the weight.

They got kind of frustrated with me, because their goal was 15% of their body weight.

friend: “What’s your goal?”

me:”to kick diabetes’ ass.”

friend:”by doing what?”

me:”eating low to no carb and low cal for 8 weeks, with a steady but slow increase, then low cal cycling until my A1C gets and stays normal and I feel better.”

friend:”you don’t have a pound goal?”

me:”I don’t want my stomach to touch the steering wheel? I dunno, I haven’t weighed myself since the doc did it.”

friend:”… but what do you want to be able to do after this is moving to a more normal intake?”

me:”keep up with three nutso kids while they go trick ‘or’ treating… this time, on foot.”

friend:”I guess that’s a goal.”

me:”I’ll know I’m back to normal then, or at least getting there.”


As I said, I was really super focused on numbers a long time ago when new parenthood created someone in the mirror I didn’t recognize. It is enough to make one  crazy because bodies don’t work by logic. You can’t figure out the calories burned, and math out to .00001% how much you ate in calories a day and have that always create a certain amount of loss. I had a fucking spreadsheet man, I was serious!

Too much paprika may make YOU swell, while everyone else on the damn planet pisses like a racehorse when they eat it. Too much olive oil may give YOU the shits and generally make you feel bad. Everyone is different. Apparently, I’m fine with skim milk or raw milk, but anything in between is not ok. Most other dairy products are fine with me. But as a diabetic, if its low-fat… its high in sugar and I need to stay away from it.

The one thing I wasn’t paying attention to was how I was feeling. Maybe if I had, I might have noticed something was wrong before it become a nightmare of a half dozen years.

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