I Suppose I Should Thank Sr. Mary Agnes...

...but I think she's dead.

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 10/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

Ahem..

So I thought I should post today because there are undoubtedly a few regular readers out there who are a little bit...concerned right now.

I am OK. Really. I just took a little dip in the deep end for a while. Had a little disagreement with whatever small bit of sanity I posses, and we had a little trial separation. We're back together now, though.

Last week was...brutal. And it wasn't just the car accident. Heck, if that were all it was, everything would have just been peachy. But it was lots of things. It was the fact that I was forced into captaining our incredibly losing effort for the scavenger hunt at work. Even though I had no control over whether we won or lost, I still felt guilty that we didn't make a better showing. Heck, after all the work I put into the stupid hearse, we didn't even have one of the top three boxes. I hate being forced into doing things I don't want to do, especially something silly like that.

Then my boss made me take Tuesday off. That meant I had all day Tuesday to sit around the house and think. And when I have too much time to think about things...well...it's a dangerous thing. Because I don't just think. I dwell. And I replay. And I rehash. Mainly, I just obsess. It's one of my many personality flaws. I can't help thinking that if I had ignored my boss and gone to work on Tuesday, things wouldn't have gotten that bad.

Then I kept getting requests for hospital information at work from account executives. And not just for one or two hospitals. Sometimes, it was for every hospital in a state. It isn't hard to download the information, but it is boring and incredibly time consuming. And since it doesn't require much thought, it was just more time to think about everything that is wrong in my life. That kinda sucked a whole lot.

Then on Thursday, I got an impossible request from someone outside our department, but within our division. There's certain report I've been asked to do for him every six weeks. It is easily my least favorite part of my job. It is time consuming (to do it right takes 3 days), tedious (I have to run the same information for 80 agencies), and frustrating (because people are stupid). I have no idea why we still have to do the report when the initiative has been moved to a different department but...oh well.

Anyway, because the guy I do the report for is stupid, he told the agencies that if they entered a certain code for particular patients by 5 p.m., they would be given credit for those patients. And, if the agencies didn't show growth in this area, they would lose a particular piece of technology that really sets them apart from other HHAs in most areas. That would land the directors and the account executives in a world of trouble.

Well, the time factor was bad enough, but then the system went down. Now, I'm not really crazy about driving at night right now, and I told my boss as much. She said that if I didn't think I was going to be able to get all the reports run in time to meet the deadline, I needed to call her and tell her. I called her around 6:15 for the first time and left a message on her cell. I called her home phone 10 minutes later, and sent her an e-mail. She called me back at about 7 and yelled at me. She said that she was very clear that if I didn't think I could get things done at a decent hour, I should call her, which I did. What I didn't pick up, and perhaps I should have, was that she wanted me to go home then. I thought I needed to wait for her to tell me to go home. When she yelled at me, fragile as I was last week, I sorta kinda really lost it.

Now, I will be the first to admit that my judgment was really off. I hadn't been sleeping well, and I had had too much time to dwell on every failure I had ever had in my life (and believe me, they are numerous). I just felt like if I didn't get that report done, it would just be one more thing to add to the list. I know it was irrational, but you have your neurosis and I have mine. Mine just happens to be a crippling fear that nothing I do is ever good enough.

Anyway, the boss called me into her office on Friday morning, ostensibly to go over what she thought would be a quicker way to do this report. Well, we did talk about that. But she also told me that I had to call our EAP to get some help. I didn't do that, but I did make an appointment with my doctor. I know I have a tendency to fall into funks way too easily. Maybe I do need to be medicated. Of course, I couldn't get an appointment until December, so I have plenty of time to cancel if I change my mind.

I was better on Friday. Except when I was in her office, I didn't cry at all. I wanted to one other time, though. Friday was the company Halloween party. I didn't dress up, but I did write obituaries for the other folks in our department. They were cute, but there was nothing really special about them. Nevertheless, everyone in our department gushed over them. I think they were only doing so to make me feel better. My boss went so far as to say that I was in the wrong field (was that supposed to be comforting?).

I should have been basking in the glory of someone praising my writing, but instead, I was a little offended. What I wrote for those obituaries was not anything that anyone with a little bit of talent and a lot of obscure knowledge couldn't have written. It wasn't real writing. It didn't have substance, and heft, and meaning. It bothered me that based on little snippets of fluff, someone could declare that I needed to be a "real" writer.

That's so stupid when I read it in retrospect. But it still bothers me a little bit. I want nothing more than to be a serious writer. But the only writing anyone ever complements is stuff so basic a high school student could have written it. I know it shouldn't bother me. People in general don't realize that there is so much more to writing than clever word play. But it's aggravating, nonetheless.

I guess it all plays into that fear that nothing I ever do is good enough. That's why I never finish anything I write - I can't stop editing. I don't know where that particualr neurosis came from. I can't blame my parents for that one. They praised even minor successes as the greatest things since sliced bread (cliche, I know). I guess it could have something to do with the fact that I never seemed good enough for my peers. I was always just on the outside of the circle. I never had the right clothes, never saw the right movies, never listened to the right music, never went to the right parties. But gosh, I wanted to be on the inside. I had enough self respect and enough familial backing to not do anything stupid in my quest to belong, fortunately. But I have never been able to shake the belief that I'm just not good enough.

{sigh} I suppose that's enough soul-baring for one night. I'm going to crawl back into my introverted hole now.

My manager thinks I need to be on drugs just because I can't sleep, I can't stop crying, and I have panic attacks every time I drive in traffic. She's probably right.

Since I don't feel like dressing up anymore for Halloween, I got roped into writing the "obituaries" for the folks who are going to dress up. Monday I would have jumped at the chance. Today, all I want to do is cry (which I've only done twice so far). I guess three straight days of insomnia will do that to you.

I'm Better Now.

Really. I just wish that everything didn't make me cry.

I'll write more tonight because I have lots to say.

So...

I was off work today. My boss made me take off after I couldn't control my crying on the phone with her last night. Today was so hard to get through with nothing to do. One of my co-workers called me and I cried on the phone to her as well. She said she'd call back later to check on me. She never did. Nor did my boss who said she'd call today. I don't know what it is about me that keeps people from caring about me for more than a few minutes.

You know, that's really not a fair thing for me to say. It's frustration calling more than anything. Most people, when they are in a tough situation turn to their family or significant others. I don't have either of those things. I have no one.

I admit that sometimes I really resent God. Oh, I'm not shallow enough to buy into that reward/retribution theology that says that God rewards those who do his will and punishes those that don't. And I never bought that platitude that says that says that God never gives us more than we can handle. I know God didn't cause my accident.

No, I resent God for taking my parents away when I was so young. I was barely an adult, and all of a sudden, I was completely on my own. There was no weaning like most people get to experience. And the rest of my family did nothing to support me through all the crap I endured after my dad and mom died. I faced everything on my own.

I know that I brought it on myself. I'm not a particularly open person. I never have been, because I discovered early on that you get hurt when you leave yourself vulnerable. It isn't easy for me to depend on other people, because beyond my parents, I never had anyone I could depend on. I just wish that I did have someone on whose shoulder I could cry when stuff like this happens.

I'm whining. I know it. And I know my resentment of God is misplaced. But nonetheless, I all really wanted to do today was to kneel on the floor and put my head on my mother's lap like I used to when I needed comfort. I longed to feel her fingers carding through my hair, imparting comfort with every stroke. I wanted to hear voice, and feel her stomach move as she laughed. For one day, I just wanted to be someone's kid, and have someone take care of me.

But I'll never have that again.

Sob

I was just in an accident on the way home. An accident that can be directly attributed to the increased traffic in Baton Rouge.

The traffic at my usual exit was backed all the way onto the interstate. I didn't want to sit in that, so I decided to switch lanes. The next exit would get me home just as effectively and much quicker. So as I was trying to switch lanes, the traffic in front of me stopped more abruptly than I anticipated. I hit the left bumper of the car in front of me with my right front bumper. He was in an SUV, so naturally there was almost no damage.

I, on the other hand, in my little compact car, have an accordianed hood, broken headlight, and probably some other stuff. The car is drivable, but I don't know how safe it is.

His car was of course owned by a company, so of course if my insurance doesn't cover all the damages I'm on the hook for whatever remains. Not to mention the damage to my own car.

I'm OK. I'm shaking, but I'm ok. Though my stomach hurts, and I'm feeling a little sore now.

I hate my life, and I hate Baton Rouge.

I'm Building a Hearse

It's fun but messy.

Our company has a scavenger hunt every year for halloween. My department chose as its team name the ICD-9 code for Dropped Dead. There really is one. Go find yourself a code book and look it up (or leave me a comment and I'll tell you what it is). I got volunteered to be team captain. Part of the requirements for the hunt is that you submit your items in a decorated box. In keeping with the whole death theme, we are submitting the few items we have in a hearse. We only have a few things because 2/3 of our team was out of town all week. The two of us who were left decided to have some fun. We were supposed to take a picture of all our teammates gathered at a particular bench not far from the office. Well, that's really hard to do when the whole team is out of town. So we got everyone pictures from the company directory, stuck them in a frame, and took a picture of them at the bench under a sign that said "In Loving Memory..." We were supposed to have a road map of Alaska, and we printed one off the internet and enlarged it so it is about 2 feet high by 2.5 feet long.

We may lose, but we had fun doing it.

So, do you want to hear the plot of my NaNovel? Well, congratulations, you're going to . Actually, I don't have much of a plot yet, but I have a pretty good concept.

The protagonist, Ella Shue, was someone who was pretty much the consummate follow or sidekick for most of her life. She did what other people wanted her to do because she was so desparate to fit in. She was manipulated by her friends, her family, even her teachers.

It wasn't until she went away to college, escaping all of those things, that she really discovered who she was, and that she was a very talented person, who did not necessarily have to follow to fit. She found her niche, and found happiness and success. This is all backstory that may or may not make it into the novel in some way, shape, or form.

Several years later, Ella is at the point in her career where she is hiring an assistant for the first time. A resume crosses her desk with a very familiar name - the person who was chiefly responsible for keeping her in the background in high school. It is a very common name, however, and she doesn't think any more of it until the day of the interview when she sees that it is the same person.

For some reason that I haven't determined yet, Ella ends up hiring her. The novel is about how Ella copes (or doesn't cope) with that change in roles.

I have some rather interesting plot points in my head. I just need to work out the details. This theme and the style I plan to use is somewhat of a departure for me - it is more popular and less literary. But I'm thinking I need a change to push me out of the funk I'm in. I feel confident that I can hit 50K this year.

I Am Sad

I was looking forward to getting to dress up as a corpse that has been pecked to death by birds for Halloween next Friday. Today I found out that I have to go to a stupid meeting Friday morning. I can't go to the meeting in costume, and the party starts right after the meeting.

I was excited about getting to do something with my department. It's different when you don't feel forced into it, and when you feel like you are actually a member of the team. Now I don't get to.

It's pathetic, but I really want to cry.

So I'm Going Deaf...

No, really. I am.

Went to the ENT yesterday. She said that the infection I had did likely perf. my eardrum, which I already knew. She couldn't see any fluid, but she said that the Eustacian tube may be a little bit compromised, which is causing me to feel like there is fluid in there. Not much they can do about that. I just need to take decongestant whenever I feel like that.

They did a hearing test. I have a slight low frequency loss in both ears, which I've known since I was a kid. It is a little worse now than it was last time I was tested. She wasn't concerned at all right now, but said it's something I need to watch, especially given my family history.

{sigh} This is why I don't go to the doctor ever.

Uh...No

Guess this lends credence to the fact that I was premature. This does not describe me at all.

Your Birthdate: May 13

Being born on the 13th day of the month should help make you a better manager and organizer, but it may also give you a tendency to dominate people a bit. You may be more responsible and self-disciplined than you realize. Sincere and honest, you are a serious, hard working individual. Your feeling are likely to seem somewhat repressed at times. You are apt to be much more practical, rational, and conscious of details. Your intolerance and insistence on complete accuracy can be irritating to some.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

A Change May Be on the Horizon

I have a background this color...

Your Blog Should Be Purple

You're an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything. You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey. You are a bit distant though. Your blog is all about you - not what anyone else has to say.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

Yeah, Another Quiz

You Are Likely an Only Child

At your darkest moments, you feel frustrated. At work and school, you do best when you're organizing. When you love someone, you tend to worry about them. In friendship, you are emotional and sympathetic. Your ideal careers are: radio announcer, finance, teaching, ministry, and management. You will leave your mark on the world with organizational leadership, maybe as the author of self-help books.

The Birth Order Predictor

Yep. 5 questions and they got it right. The funny thing is that I have done all of the mentioned careers in one form or another. Guess I just need to write a self-help book. How about Coke in a Sack: Adjusting to Living in the South when You Are a Damn Yankee?

Ugh!

Tomorrow I have an appointment with an ENT. I'm not happy about it.

Remember that ear infection I had a couple weeks ago? Well, it got better, but I'm still having some residual problems. Every now and then, it feels like fluid is built up again, but then it goes away. I think my boss got tired of me asking her to repeat herself, because she threatened to drag me in kicking and screaming if I didn't go voluntarily. Maybe I only have an allergy.

Of course, If I'm to be totally honest, I was having problems before the infection as well. I can't clearly hear conversation if there is any background noise, like in a restaurant or in the office when the printer or copier is running. I seem to have trouble with lower sounds as well. Add to that the fact that hearing loss runs in my dad's side of the family (every single one of his siblings have had problems of one kind or another), and the fact that I already had a small loss due to all the ear infections I had as a child, and well. I guess I should be worried. And I am.

She'll probably tell me it's all in my head and then I'll feel stupid for wasting her time and mine. That's why I hate going to doctors. That and the fact that they may find out that something is actually wrong. I don't like either of those scenarios.

And the Steelers lost thanks to Tommy Maddox's stupidity. How can you not fall on a fumble when you are in field goal range in overtime? Idiot. Then he throws an interception that ends the game. I hope Ben Rothlesburger is better next week.

Faith, Art, and Birds

So I was surfing the NaNo forums today. I'm preparing to write, and I wanted to see what other people were doing and thinking. And it wasn't to get plot ideas - I finally have one of those (I'll post that later). I was just curious.

So within the genre forums I clicked on to the Spirituality/New Age forum. I'm not writing in that genre, but I was curious. Anyway, it seemed like most of the Christian writers there were writing blatantly Christian novels. A few were attempting allegories, but most were following the typical theme of someone searching for something and not finding it until they accept Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior. Cliche, but it seems to be that most novels in that "Christian" genre are.

This got me to thinking. Is there a difference between a Christian writer (or artist, or dancer, or whatever) and a writer who is a Christian? I've had this discussion before, and I've read about it before, but I think I have put it into a different light for myself today.

When I try to write something with a blatantly Christian theme (I'm talking fiction - nonfiction is an entirely different animal), I usually end up failing or just giving up. I always felt vaguely about that. I figured that if I claimed to be a Christian, I should be able to write about it in whatever way I wanted and have it be good (at least as good as how good a writer I am - this sentence not withstanding). But it never was.

I've come to realize why that was. When I tried to force the issue, it ended up being unnatural and contrived. It's like trying to...well, I don't really have an appropriate analogy. But random angels, miracles happening, and "reward theology" just aren't reality. Not that I don't believe that angels exist or that miracles happen (believing that good or bad things happen to you in proportion to how hard you believe or don't believe is another story), but I think that they are more subtle that what you find in most "Christian" fiction.

Having said all this, however, I believe that no matter what I write about, or in what genre I write, my faith in God informs it. I can't separate the part of me that believes from the part of me that creates, since all of me comes from the ultimate Creator. Being a Christian colors my world view, which in turn colors my writing, whether or not I am writing about blatantly Christian characters or themes.

So this year, I'm not going to try to force things. There is nothing purely Christian about my plot, there is nothing about my main character accepting Christ in any way, shape, or form. I'm not going to force my novel to be something it doesn't necessarily want to be. But as I've begun outlining my novel, I can see my beliefs influencing the direction I am moving, but in a more subtle, true to life way. I don't know what category that puts me in, but here I am.

Oh, and I'm going to be pecked to death by birds for my company Halloween party. There's a story behind that. Leave me a comment if you want to know it.

Just one more "quiz"

Your Brain's Pattern

You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy. You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts. People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused. But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Yeah, this fits...

Your Hidden Talent

You are a great communicator. You have a real way with words. You're never at a loss to explain what you mean or how you feel. People find it easy to empathize with you, no matter what your situation. When you're up, you make everyone happy. But when you're down, everyone suffers.

What's Your Hidden Talent?

I promise I will write something substantial this weekend. No, really. I mean it.

Good Grief!

You are Charlie Brown!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

This does not surprise me at all. {sigh}

Movie Recommendation

If you haven't yet, you absolutely must see Million Dollar Baby. I didn't see it when it was out in the theaters because I hate boxing, and thought it was all about that. I isn't. My boss recommended it, and she was absolutely right. The last time I cried this much watching a movie was when I was in college and saw Shadowlands. That movie is in my top 10, and now I think this one is as well.

I have a new respect for Clint Eastwood. He did an incredible job of directing, and he wrote the title music, which is just incredible.

Rent it. Now.

Career Counseling

I need some.

I've been thinking a lot lately about where my career is going and where I want it to go. Now, in all honesty, I would like to spend my day writing and have someone give me lots of money to do it. That isn't going to happen anytime soon, unless some publisher out there wants to by an unfinished, unedited novel. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

No, huh? Oh, well.

I started thinking about this when we hired a new statistician. A lot of what I have been responsible for is now going to him. Personally, I'd be insulted if I were him, considering he has a PhD and I have a little liberal arts BA. But I'm not him, so what do I know? Anyway, with him taking over a lot of those tasks, I'm left with most of the more...menial jobs in the department. I'm a team player, and I'm willing to do my part, but I'm bored. Bored, bored, bored. With no end to the boredom in sight.

My manager thinks she is doing me a favor by taking some of these tasks away from me, but she isn't. The little bit of challenge and creative outlet those things afford me was the only bright spot in my day. I tried to tell her this, but she didn't seem to understand, and told me that I need to be able to give things up. I guess that I didn't do such a good job of communicating with her.

I'm frustrated because I can't get a handle on exactly what my role in the department is right now, and I can't get a hold on where my job and my career is going. To make matters worse, my manager left my position off of her staffing model, and with the COO talking about looking for places we can make cuts at corporate, I'm a little paranoid.

My manager swears that she values me as an employee, and she wants to take me as far as I want to go in the company. But the fact of the matter is that I'm 34 years old, and haven't been on a career path since I graduated from college. I don't know where I can go.

In light of that, I made a list of things I'm good at, and things I like to do, and evaluated them in terms of my current position.

• Writing. The fact of the matter is that I am a good writer, and I love writing and editing. I get to do some editing now, but it's really just proofreading. I rarely get to write, and most of what I do write are simple, little, e-mails. I get frustrated when people with inferior writing skills are assigned writing tasks while I am stuffing envelopes, and then when I edit their work, they ignore any substantive suggestions.
• Research. I used to get to do all kinds of research. I love the challenge of looking for articels on particular topics, or actual statistics to back up an observation. But now that the new statistician is here, I've already seen a lot of these tasks given to him. My manager says that I can't give things up, but I like this. I don't want to give this up. I'll give up every single statistical thing that I do in a heartbeat, though. But she isn't taking those away from me.
• Problem-solving. See above.
• Design. I may have the artistic ability of a turnip, but I'm good at finding different elements and putting them together in a way that is pleasing to the eye. I do get to some of this, but not as much as I would like. And again, I get frustrated when I see people with no concept of what they were doing putting together flyers, PowerPoint presentations, and the like.

Now, to be fair, I had to make a list of the things that I don't like and that I'm not good at as well.

• Repetitive tasks. Not only do I hate, hate, HATE doing reptitivie things that require little or no thought and/or effort, I get bored and distracted very easily. That makes me both inefficient and cranky. Naturally about 75% of what I do now that the statistician is getting so many of my tasks falls into this category.
• Numbers. I hate them. It's not that I'm not capable of working with numbers - I am. But I find them difficult. I get a little dyslexic with them, and have to go over and over what I've done, and basic calculations are sometimes beyond me, not because I don't understand them, but I have trouble with the arithmetic (remind me to tell you about my high school Calculus class sometime). Now, you would think that now that we have a statistician on staff, someone who actually understands this crap, these would be the things that he would be assigned. But no. He gets to research how other companies have measured success with a new technology we are rolling out, while I try to determine what percentage of our drop in revenue is do to which of several events. I don't know how to do that. Heck, I don't even understand the sentence I just wrote.
• Organization. Now, this is a weakness that is a detriment, and one I have been working on my entire life, from the first time Sister Carol dumped out my desk because it was too messy. I can keep myself organized, but a whole department? Not so much. So naturally, that is part of my job description. I've always wondered, though, if my fondness for piles over files is has something to do with having a creative mind.

Add to all this the fact that, as much as I want to deny it, I seem to have an innate talent for business. I have no idea where it came from, as I never in my entire life have wanted to work in the business world. I'm not proud of any ability I have in that area, and I've pretty much tried to hide it as much as I could. The business world just makes me uncomfortable. I feel guilty about being interested in making money as a business when there are so many people in this country and this world who don't even have enough to survive on. I guess I really am just a bleeding heart.

So where do I go from here? I've looked into graduate programs, but I have no idea where I would go in the company with them. I love the company I work with (even if I'm seeing more of the typical corporate politics coming out now). I love my manager to death. I think she is an amazingly gifted woman who is tremendously unappreciated by upper management. I love my co-workers, even the statistician who is taking away the things I like to do. I even love my manager's manager, who, even though she is "only" the CIO, runs the company for all intents and purposes. She makes me crazy sometimes, but I respect her tremendously.

So, where does that leave me? I have no idea. But I think something has to give at some point in time. All I want for Halloween (Christmas is too far away) is a career.

You Know You Live on the Gulf Coast When...

Normally I ignore and delete "joke" e-mails, but I had to share this one...

You know you live on the Gulf Coast when...

• You have FEMA's number on your speed dialer.
• You have more than 300 C and D batteries in your kitchen drawer.
• Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti Os.
• You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.
• When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe hallway.
• Your SSN isn't a secret, it's written in Sharpie on your arms.
• You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.
• You are delighted to pay $3 for a gallon of regular unleaded.
• The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone.
• You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.
• You own more than three large coolers.
• You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.
• You rationalize helping a friend board up by thinking "It'll only take gallon of gas to get there and back"
• You have 2-liter coke bottles and milk jugs filled with water in your freezer
• Three months ago you couldn't hang a shower curtain; today you can assemblea portable generator by candlelight.
• You catch a 13-pound redfish. In your driveway.
• You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy.
• You consider a "vacation" to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi.
• At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw.
• You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.
• There is a roll of tar paper in your garage.
• You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather Channel.
• Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.
• Ice is a valid topic of conversation.
• Your "drive-thru" meal consists of MRE's and bottled water.
• Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.
• You spend more time on your roof then in your living room.
• You've been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.
• A battery powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.
• You don't worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.
• Your child's first words, "hunker down" and you didn't go to UGA!
• Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it's Christmas.
• Toilet Paper is elevated to coin of the realm at the shelters.
• You know the difference between the "good side" of a storm and the "bad side."
• Your kids start school in August and finish in July.
• You go to work early and stay late just to enjoy the air conditioning.

August Wilson Died

I may actually cry at some point today.