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Wow… um, hi.

I seriously just happened to log in for the first time in forever, and it’s my WordPress anniversary! Aaaaawwwww….

Life got in the way of writing. I hate when that happens! Especially when I end up at work frantically scribbling notes for a plot line on a legal pad, filling up the pages and then all the margins, and then realizing people are starting to stare. Or, just…especially when I’m at work.

[Warning: bitchfest ahead]

So last year, this job sounded awesome! And it seemed awesome! I threw myself into it whole-heartedly. The following month after my last post, I actually had two days off the entire month. The. Entire. Month. I was (mostly) okay with this, because I was able to keep the business operational during a seriously weird time, and I believed that it would get better. Instead, I ended up with no formal training, no compensation for the 100+ hours of overtime I pretty much had to put in, and another position to take over temporarily (still totally winging it in my own position). Then I found myself constantly picking up my supervisor’s slack and trying to cover her mistakes and incredible disorganization. Then I learned that my supervisor’s supervisor had to “defend” BOTH our evaluations to the big boss, because my performance is overshadowed by her under-performance. The cherry on top was when I requested, and was granted, six days of leave for the Solstice and my son’s birthday…then was told I couldn’t take leave after all. Then my supervisor AND HER (OUR) SUPERVISOR went on leave simultaneously and I was left to run the facilities myself! My leave was cancelled so they could take their own! So when they both returned I gave them notice that I’ll only be working through March. And now I’m persona non grata. My supervisor has become very catty and vindictive…just constantly throwing out little digs at me. I’m so. fucking. done. But I need to stay in the position for at least a full year.

[bitchfest done]

In other news, I’ve got to have surgery and I’m scared shitless. I’m supposed to call tomorrow to make an appointment for a consult but I’m sort of not wanting to call! [mini bitchfest-supe is super irritated that I have the nerve to actually need an operation when I’m leaving the job soon anyway. goddamn it, body. where are your priorities???] I will end up calling, of course. It has to be done. I’m just so pissed at the timing–I’ve been hitting the weights hard and I’ve made so much progress, and now I’ll be laid up for a while! I’m currently trying to cut like crazy so hopefully I won’t slip backwards too far.

Did I mention I’m scared shitless?