Thursday, May 7, 2009 - Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining

Nation: the past few weeks have been tumultuous; work is going quite well, home life is returning to quasi-normal as the husband is finally working again. My daughter has applied to graduate school and there was an interview as part of the application process. She had been unable to reach the phd in charge of her program, as his voicemail was full, and he wasn't answering emails. When he finally called, on the Friday night before Easter, his cryptic telephone message indicated that she "should meet him in Parking Lot 3, behind the Charter School, on Mon., April 20, at 12 Noon". We all thought "how odd..." but maybe it's easier to meet her there, and then proceed inside for the interview. She and I both took the day off from work and, with the husband playing logistics commander at home by Weather Channel and voice-comm, we drove down to the school - in an absolute downpour - to wait, ever patiently, in parking lot #3. The PhD never showed up! Nor had anyone seen him when my daughter called the Psychology Dept of the grad school. She left 2 messages; we waited from 11:45AM-1:50PM and then drove over to the undergrad school in NYC and picked up the actual bachelor's degree: Forensic Psychology cum laude.

Almost a week went by before I found the name of an advisor at the grad school who could maybe help out. My daughter wrote to him; he responded same day by email and by phone. By the next day, she received an email from the original PhD, who was 'sorry for the miscommunication- as he thought he told her to meet him at the Charter School in some-such room number.' I saved the original telephone message in case crap ever came from it. So they re-scheduled an interview, Mon., April 27, at 6:45pm - in between classes. My daughter was like, "how much time can he be giving me? There's only like 15 minutes between classes at night down there." Well, she was right; she was in and out by 7:05pm. He basically reiterated what he had explained at the Open House '74 credits, rigorous program...' and said he was looking through her documents and GRE scores (my daughter said her heart dropped as her scores were nothing to brag about), but then added: "I don't think you'll have any problem getting into this program."

I think she was more shocked than anything; thrilled, yes - but how could this guy make such a determination when each of the ONLY 8-12 accepted students each semester would also have to pass a panel of the entire department of people. So this guy was basically putting words in the mouths of about 6 other PhDs! She was 'cautiously optimistic'...


Email arrived this morning at her undergrad school email account: "Congratulations on your acceptance..." I am so happy for her; my bowels have been in an uproar ever since she got the sentence out! I feel a bunch of different emotions: I am also a bit scared; not of any inability to complete the workload. As this comes closer to becoming a career reality, I am concerned about her exposure to children (teenagers, too) whose problems may place her in a vulnerable position.

How many therapists have been attacked by their patients? What about school shootings?
Gotta try and not think so much about that stuff. Just be happy for this moment in the sun!


The reason for this blog...the hair. I really love the color of the hair; so many women here at the job tell me that if their gray looked like mine they'd stop coloring. That's really nice. Guess it helps that my hair is thick as well. It just seems to be stuck not growing. I really want it to get long like that older model, Cindy Joseph. She started modeling at 48!! I've posted her pic below. When it gets just long enough for a pony tail, I might buy a long extension and do an "I Dream of Jeannie" ponytail with a braid wrap.


Me today

Monday, Apr. 13, 2009

Nation...On April 1st (quite appropos) I had the required opportunity to sit through a "tear down" session (aka the yearly review and appraisal) with my manager who, in an very unexpected show of god-knows-what, grabbed my hand during the review and told me how committed she is to my success here at the company. How do you respond to that? I would have more expected an MMA cage match in her office. Totally caught me off guard. So I put my other hand over hears and patted it. Long story short, I have been placed on Performance Review (like probation) unknown # of days. I was apparently putting out crappy work last year, along with being late (is 7:05am late for a 7:00 start? I'm told it is); leaving early (NEVER!); but the worst was being told "in a random sampling of emails, a number of Jackie's responses were found to be curt." Nation, on my worst day ever - screaming at the husband, sucking so much oxygen that my dental plate dislodges from the roof of my mouth, I am not curt. I am genetically incapable of being curt. I just wanted to put this whole episode behind me, and since I have no intention of going out and looking for another job, I signed the paperwork and promised myself that if anything comes up that's questionable here on the job, I'm going right to her and talking about it. Apparently I can't trust a co-worker that I've been talking to. Funny thing; this co-worker cries in emails all the time about how she thinks the manager is mad at her; no responding to her emails, etc. So I keep my fucking distance from anything here except my pc, which has been spitting out Disturbed and Slipknot of late. Nobody bothers me.

My much-beloved child will be walking in graduation ceremony at the end of May. She has graduated cum laude ("with honors" for all non-Latin inclined readers) with a degree in Forensic Psychology, and has applied to graduate school for a masters in Educational Psychology and Professional Certificate in School Psychology. I stated early on here in this blog that she is everything I'm not, and more than I could ever hope to be. And she is. :)

The sister-in-law and husband are coming down from the family compound for the ceremony. Now I'm scrambling to get 1 more ticket to the graduation, as each student is only allowed 4, and with the boyfriend coming also, that only left 1 ticket. I'm already dicking my husband's 91-year-old aunt, who has been asking since last year and wanting to go. I'm sure I'll burn for this.

Hair is crazy grey but seems to be only growing in the fron on top of my head. Can't wait till it's long enough for a pony tail. Like the old gray mare - she ain't what she used to be!

Mon., Mar. 16, 2009 - Armagedden

Nation...I'm about as sick to my stomach as one can be with the knowledge of an impending shitstorm from which you cannot jump away. I'll probably be getting my review today, as the manager has been away all of last week - giving reviews to my counterpart in Colorado and the safety manager at a Texas facility. I don't know why reviews require a face-to-face in the age of webcasts, webex, and webinars; not to mention rotary dial telephones. She never sees these people anyway; how can she possibly hold them up to any type of measuring bar for job performance?

I ended up writing a separate 2 full pages of documentations over the accusations and treatment I have received from her over the past year (Jan 2008 - current). A dear friend of mine has told me that I am still grieving for my brother, which is of course quite true. I'm sure most of anything I thought, said or have done since July 1 2007 has been under a haze of grief. My boss has lost her father (after a long illness 4 years ago); her mother is still quite alive as is her sister. She was quite close to her father and was very upset when he passed, however, I do not think she can empathize with me over my loss, but when thinking of this, I do not hold it against her. I do not think she has any idea of the way she comes across: she seems to think she manages with her heart first and then her head, but I think by 'heart' she means interpretive feelings. She feels she cannot trust me, yet she has no way of proving any of her suspicions and, conversely, I have no way to prove that I am here on time, and staying later than necessary - if that's what it would take FOR her to trust me. I asked security and IT for reports indicating my building arrival/departure times, computer login/logoff times. Both have indicated that the company does not record this information as it would be too much of a potential Big Brother situation.

I know I have stated in this blog previously about her trust issues with me. I have also stated that it's all I can do to keep from laughing in her face about trust. I know from long, painful experience that there is nothing in this world that can move one person to trust another, once they get a thought in their head. Doesn't matter that the thought, once verbalized, is denied by the so-called guilty party. It also doesn't matter that the thought CAN be proven to be FALSE; the suspicious mind will never bring it to that point. Then they'd have to question themselves, "could I maybe have been wrong?" Individuals with self-esteem issues are always suspicious of the ones closest to them; probably for whatever reason they thinkof themselves as either unlovable or unworthy. And it never, ever matters how much or how often they hear otherwise. They just are incapable of believing it.

Oh well...
Into the valley of death rode the 600 ("The Charge of the Light Brigade")
Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I fear no evil, for thou art with me (funeral rite)
It's the end of the world as we know it; but I feel fine (REM)
This is the end, beautiful friend, the end (The Doors)
"Stay alive! No matter what occurs; I will find you." ("The Last of the Mohicans")

If I survive the battle, I will return to blog again.

Fri., Mar. 6, 2009 - My Cubicle is The Doom Bunker

Nation - life as I have known it is over. It's been almost a month since my last post, however, it seems like yesterday. I didn't mention last time that my boss told me on Fri., Feb 6, that she was placing me on Performance Improvement Plan (because '2008 was a tough year for me, and she hated having to do it because I was doing fantastic work in the past 3 months. Everyone is happy with reports, ins cards, certificates...') when she reviewed my appraisal in the following week (Feb 9-13). The appraisal didn't happen, but I was so thrown by it that I called a contact I have in HR (and NOT the person assigned to me because she cannot be trusted.) I saw my contact at a different location and told her everything that my boss had said. I was concerned because I had been on a PIP in 2005, so I felt that maybe 2 in your folder could be termination grounds...corporate crap, so concerned with having proper paperwork. Anyway, turns out it wouldn't be a problem jobwise, but she said once I got the review on paper to bring it to her and we'd go over it and see what, if anything, was worth fighting. Excellent idea.

Well, today is exactly 4 weeks since my boss told me about the upcoming placement, and I have yet to have my appraisal/review. She's going to CO to give my counterpart hers on Monday, then traveling to TX later in the week to give the Safety Mgr his. How long should a condemned man need to wait for execution? It's basically the same thing. Anyway, she popped a gasket yesterday because I took the initiative to ask a question about a Sales Rep that I discovered was driving in her personal vehicle to do her job (we have a fleet of cars to assign our drivers). I told my boss verbally that a sales rep was driving her own verhicle and she said "she can't do that". The woman I questioned sent my email to some exec who wrote me back a dissertation of stuff, very little of which had to do with my original 1 line question. So I forwarded his paragraph to my boss and simply stated: Following below is an email that I think you should definitely review to respond. She sends me back an email: You never should have asked the question in the first place. There are thresholds in place that the groups determine on when to put a person in a company vehicle as stated below. How do you plan on responding to this or do you expect me to now? I printed the email and I plan to bring the whole scenario up at my appraisal. If there are things going on behind the scenes in the corporate auto program, I feel I should know about them so I know how to respond to something when I hear about it. She wants me to handle the day to day of the auto program, but wants to tie my hands by keeping me like a mushroom.

In addition to printing out that email, I've started going through some older stuff in which she corrects my grammar, tells me to say thank you, and other crap. I've started keeping notes of what transpires on a daily basis so I can add it to my appraisal at the spot where they ask "What Can Your Manager Do to Help You Achieve Your Objectives?" I think I'll need a second sheet.

I'm tired of playing her bitch.

I was just physically sick for the rest of the day; I wanted to call the husband just to cry, but didn't want him to have to hear me when it was so fresh. I called my friend who is the Asst Manager of the vehicle program and talked to her. She said I'm way too analytical (about the program.) I just know that if I had said "great someone is not driving a fleet vehicle" and forgot about it, this person would have an accident, and it would come back to me that I knew she wasn;t in a fleet vehicle and why didn't I mention something to someone. It was just eating at me all afternoon and evening, and then my husband made some comment about how he knows what I'm thinking while I'm doing something and I just lost it. "You do not know what I'm thinking." I don't even remember what else I said; but as he went outside I just got sobbing and choking hysterical. Calmed down shortly thereafter, but after going to bed at 10:00, I was having a fucking hot flash at 230 this morning so got up to pee and was just struck with the dizziness of a full drunken sailor: the room started spinning, my eyes wouldn't focus. I had to reach out and hold the wall just to give my eyes a non-moving object to focus on. Then more crying (scared crying) as I walked my way down the bedromm wall on my hands to the bathroom. The bathroom was spinning, I was hot, I was cold, I was hyperventilating. I went out to the living room to sit - sweating under a little blanket, but freezing if I came out. Then my mouth started watering, the burping started and vomit flowed. Thankfully I made it to the bathroom, barely, but as I stood there vomiting, each body-shaking retch squeezed my bladder and I was soaked from crotch to knees. Same thing happened to me after surgery: puking coming out of anesthesia, and peeing with each hurl. Add major incontinence to my ever-growing list of "life blows" symptoms.

Friday, February 13, 2009 -

Nation - so much has been going on since my last post, I've been mentally and physically very busy. The husband is on vacation in the Virgin Islands; he'll be back on Sunday after being away for 10 days. I had thought I'd be at the gym every day, really going full throttle back into taking better care of myself (I started back on Sat., Jan. 31st and absolutely overdid it; I was crippled until the following Wed., Feb. 4th) Instead of going back on the night of the 5th (the day the husband left) I went out to Cheesecake Factory for dinner with my daughter and her boyfriend (they gave us 3 slices of cheesecake free because they screwed up on our table assignment! How fortuitous that I had chosen to return to the gym!) I digress...

My intention was to go back to the gym; instead I have been painting my living room and dining room since Monday night after work. I've been up until 1AM every night this week: taping edges and removing electrical outlets (Mon), cutting in with a 2" brush (2 colors, 2 rooms Tue), rolling on coat #1 (2 colors, 2 rooms Wed), rolling on coat #2 (2 colors, 2 rooms Thu). Tonight, I will be doing some final touch ups, replacing hardware and pulling tape. Cleaning paint rollers is an exercise in futility. The absolute worst thing about painting is the clean up! What a fucking mess! And you have to do it each time you use the brushes, rollers, and pans. In my humble opinion, I think I did a great job, considering I have never brushed 1 stroke on any wall, anywhere. I have a whole new respect for painting contractors. After a full week of sweat, soreness (including spasms in my tendonitis-stressed elbow), paint in my hair, 4 hours of sleep per night, 8 hours of "abuse from my boss" work per day, I hope the husband isn't too upset with the depth of the colors I chose: Dark Ash (very dark grey) and Evening Hush (extremely dark/deep grey.) I gotta be about the gray, right? I think it looks very hip, and surprisingly elegant.

My elbow is killing me, and my right hand is throbbingly sore - no blisters, though.

Haircut tomorrow morning; how does hair become too long overnight to gel? One day it was good, then suddenly it all went to crap. Color is great though; one of the best decisions I've made as an adult.

Meeting my daughter for lunch; god I need sleep. I want to get that painting done TONIGHT - no exceptions. I may turn up the hot tub and soak on Sat night. Picking up the husband on Sunday night, and taking off Monday for a nice reunion day.

OH - almost forgot; while lying on the living room floor unscrewing socket covers last night, my daughter stepped out the front door (I figured maybe forgot something in her car.) She came back in with a dozen roses and a little bag containing a teddy bear and a heart box of truffles!

Special delivery - for me - long distance from the Caribbean! The husband is very disobedient: I told him no Valentine stuff, as we could do something together for the crazy prices they charge.

I'm glad he didn't listen! Happy Valentine's Day!

Sunday, January 25, 2009 - Early Bird

Nation...it's the dawn of a new America. Did anyone watch the Colbert Report on Inauguration Night? OMG it is classic TV with Stephen weeping and weeping! The spot goes on for close to 6 minutes, and it is just classic Stephen. I tried to embed the vid, but I think it's too long for the blog, so here's the link: http://blog.indecision2008.com/2009/01/21/stephen-colbert-gets-emotional-over-obamas-inauguration/ He is only sniffling in the beginning, but into the 4th minute, he is a snotty mess!

I've been feeling really good since my last post (the 3rd!). Work is going well, but the launch of the driver safety program is suffering from some glitches. I'm trying to work with those responsible, but it takes so much time out of the day, I sometimes don't feel as though I'm accomplishing all that could be done.

Physically I seem to be at an impasse with my body. I have been ruthlessly performing cardio of 55 minutes (Fri., 63mins, and yesterday 68mins) and when I got on the scale I weighed exactly what I did when I last saw the doctor. I see her on Thursday, so we'll see what she says.

The husband is already up and talking constantly, making comments about me being on the internet already. This is why I get up early, to be left alone - but to no avail.

Ok he's outside. I had crazy dreams about the ex-boyfriend last night. My daughter had an unexpected meeting w/her boyfriend's ex and another girl who broke up her first love. She was uncomfortable with the situation and we talked about it. The husband said "oh, it should be okay that if you see an ex that everyone sdhould be able to get together..." She and I were in the kitchen stuffing shells and I marched into the living room and started ranting about how during the workers compensation injury (2002-2004) and were at the medical mill in Elizabeth, I saw the ex-boyfriend on line to be seen and I thought I was gonna die. I wanted so much to say something, but due to his raging jealousy (which would have lasted for 2 weeks) which undoubtedly would have followed my even saying hello, I didn't and now I don't know if he even recognized me (I hope he did) never mind anything else.

He said, "you were foolish not to say hello." So what do I know? Nothing and less. My whole life is based on second-guessing.

Saturday, January 3, 2009 - Black Veil

Nation - is someone sane when they can feel the depression coming on? I can't even word what is wrong, but I am crying as I write this. I feel so stupid and worthless, I don't want to do anything that might take time to make me feel better; this includes cleaning the house, cooking, walking. I've been sleeping not only my 8 straight hours at night, but have taken 3-hour naps on Thursday and Friday, and am looking forward to one today.

I have to postpone my upcoming doctor appt, because I want to make sure I lose a couple of pounds so she keeps me on the phentermine. I also want her to up the dose. I've been using 37.5mg for years on and off (she doesn't know this), and she's got me on 15mg. Like that will ever help my fat ass.

This depression comes on the heels of the most hormonally-surged two weeks I've had since I can't even remember when. Following my husband around the house like a dog in heat. When I think of it, I'm kind of grossed out, as who wants an out-of-shape 50 year old panting around? I guess it's okay with him, or else he's a really good actor.

I do need to venture out later for a huge container to hold wrapping paper, and I need a couple of bottles of sandalwood-scented oil for my warmer in the car.

OK - back from the slog of humanity that is Saturday shopping in Paramus. I went - for the very first time - to The Container Store. What a bunch of crap! The prices were outrageous. Everything was made in China. I'm so tired of everything, it's nauseating. I never made it to The Body Shop for the sandlewood oil; too tired.

I need my Jamie, in his kilt, riding behind me on horseback, whispering all he'll do to me once we get home.