grumble

This is, for me, the Monday of my week.
At 5:30 am I was awakened by the somewhat distant, but not distant enough, sounds of a pickup truck doing work-- the back gate banging, the gears grinding, the engine revving, the clatter as whatever was in the back slid to the ground. I rolled over, trying to make myself comfortable, and in my disorientation managed to crack my head soundly against the solid plaster wall.

So, I have a headache.

In addition, the ankle I was complaining about on Monday, and then on Tuesday, and then yesterday, is still very much as painful as if I had never just spent two days off with it in the air and not using it at all. (I really haven't left the house, and haven't had shoes on.) It hurts every bit as much as it did on Monday when I got home from work all complainy.
In fact, I think it hurts more.

So screw this non-medicating thing. I'm wondering if I got a stress fracture of some kind, because the pain goes away when I'm warmed-up and moving, but always comes back. Well... I guess there's nothing for it this morning except to bloody well warm it up and move it. Thursdays are money days, and I'm not going to let myself be crippled by a headache from... running my head into a wall.

I didn't get anything done this weekend, and I feel a little guilty, but not entirely, because at least I started to get excited about a story again. I still have a lot of bullshit work to do, though, and I wish I'd managed to at least get started on that. And of course, every day I don't write, is another day when I'm, well, not writing, and builds the wall of starting it up again that much higher. This is not the longest stretch I've gone, but it's a pretty darn long stretch, for no reason whatsoever. So much for taking an easy job that let me write: it's hammering home the point that no job is an easy job, and whether I write or not is entirely down to me. Pthbbbt.

This yogurt tastes like hell. I can't decide if it's a crappy flavor or if it's gone off. I hope I'd be smart enough to know whether it's gone off, but then, I hope a lot of things.

Also I'm in the middle of a really bad eczema flare between my fingers and that's retarded. I wore gloves to do the dishes yesterday, and I've been putting all kinds of lotions on them.

If this isn't incentive to find that physicians' directory and get myself an appointment with a doctor, I don't know what is, but then, I said the same thing when I ran out of birth control, and so far that hasn't motivated me either. Sigh. I hate choosing a new doctor. I have absolutely no information on who's reasonable around here. It was convenient, in Westchester, to have a general physician who did the gyn stuff too, but she was actually really mean and thought I was a degenerate and did an AIDS test on me because she thought I was a skank. Now, I'm glad she did, because it's nice to have been tested, because you never know, but still. At least at Planned Parenthood they were polite about it. Maybe I can just still go there. Nothing like getting your thingy examined in a barricaded fortress. (Not that there have ever been any attacks on that one, and not that anybody even pickets it, that I know of...)

Obviously I am a grouch today, and I actually woke up singing the I Love Trash (I Love It Because It's Trash) song (the second time I woke up, after knocking myself out on the wall)... so I must go warm up my aching ankle (no, it definitely hurts worse now that I've rested it for two days) and get myself ready to go attempt to be cheerful to the assholes that fly outta this airport. Urgh.

bleahhh....hh

Guh. Today was so stupid. I should've gone with my first instinct and just called in. Stupid, stupid.

And now they're going to redo the schedule by having thirteen possible schedules and letting us bid on them, and in order of seniority and preference they'll assign them to us. Coolest part: my seniority number is 13. So that's awesome. Now, mind you, there are a number of people senior to me who are part-time, and thus who won't be getting these schedules. But how that's supposed to work, I don't know. There are also now five people junior to me. There are a total of 20 bartenders. Competing for 13 schedules. Yes. Awesome.

I do know that the schedule I've been working for the last month or so is on there, and is likely to be snapped up by someone senior to me. I do also see that they're changing some of the schedules very subtly, and aren't explaining the difference: how are we supposed to decide what schedule we really want if they don't explain? (Example: M-F 11:00-7:30 is one schedule; another is M-F 10:45-7:15. Now for the last couple of years there have just been two people who worked M-F 11:00-7:00, and which of them went where was decided by seniority. So what's the difference between those two schedules? Good goddamn luck finding out, before you bid and commit yourself to it.)
And I don't know what this leaves for the part-timers.
You can bet your ass I won't have as good a schedule as I do now. I'm starting to consider quitting. I'd go to another bar, but won't get health insurance. Meanwhile, are there any other jobs I could even do other than bartending? I don't know where to start looking. But dammit, I should; this is moronic, this hanging on tenterhooks and waiting to see whether I'll get screwed. Also, my foot hurts, and I miss having a job where a minor injury didn't incapacitate me. If I have to take time off to get my foot seen to, that may well put me back in the red financially. My job doesn't come with sick days.
But you can bet your ass that if the results of the bid schedules leave me without enough hours to maintain my health insurance, then I am quitting and they can take their proper notice and shove it up their asses.

monster

Looking through monster.com, I am somewhat disturbed that the only job on the entire site that I find remotely appealing is this one.

(edited to add) But why not? I mean really, why not? Instead of working a job I hate that never gives me enough time off to see my friends or family, and which everyone thinks is a meaningless and dead-end job, why shouldn't I just go overseas and do the same thing only when I mention having done it everyone will be like "ohh wow"?
Sheesh.

goodnight

So Z comes in from the porch and is puttering around. "Isn't it your bedtime?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says, and in a few minutes, he says, "I'm goin'a bed." He comes into my room, and I turn my face up to him, expecting a good night kiss.
He holds out his hand. I look at it in some confusion.
"Gimme five," he says.
I give him five, and he returns it. I look up at him in bewilderment. "But I wanted a good-night kiss," I say.
He looks wounded. "Don't you wanna gimme five?"

Yes, Z and I now, it seems, exchange hand-slaps at bedtime.

I guess it took too much sentiment out of him to admit that he'd miss me* if I ran away to Japan.


*but not so much that he wants me not to do it.

I am still considering it.