the factory that stole Christmas
December 21, 2005,
Please, oh please, whatever powers that might possibly be�let him get that job!
The incredibly inept company that Spouse has been working for has done it to us again. On every possible occasion where they could ruin our vacations, holidays, or any other plans, they have done so. Now they�ve managed to fuck up Christmas.
Work, finances, and general business had pushed into an extremely tight schedule for holiday prep�Friday was the only possible day for us to do any heavy cleaning or food shopping�and now, at the last minute, they are making his department work.
But they aren�t done yet�they still have to decide if they guys will work days or nights.
So basically, I will have a husband who is unavailable, or cannot be disturbed, or worked to the point of exhaustion immediately prior to the party. Who has no time to go shopping, or help me do anything. And who will either be a vicious bear, or pass out, when it comes time for the actual party.
WHAT the FUCK is wrong with these people, and why do they treat their employees so?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah�I know why. Because they can. If you stay at that place, I guess, you get what you deserve.)
I honestly don�t know how the frig I�m going to pull this out of my ass.
I feel like my whole life is collapsing. My work has gotten beyond bearing, so has his, money is more a problem than ever, (and I�m including his inability to manage it in that statement.) It seems like nothing is possible�I feel like the walls have closed in until I can�t move in any direction.I just wish they would keep closing in until they crush this miserable, wretched life OUT OF ME.
Life in depression is horrible, but at least a kind of bleak numbness sets in. When I manage to claw my way out of an episode, I�m confronted by a different, and infinitely more painful, set of circumstances. The kind where you can�t even take comfort in the thought �it�s all in your head.�
And that�s what it comes to. I feel so bad, I WISH I was depressed.
And I hate all that about me, incidentally. The passive-aggressive bullshit, the inability to make something happen for myself because I�m scared my life will mess up someone else�s. The long-standing dread of anger and strife�to the point where I�d rather be depressed and numb than well, and angry. And to where I�ll drug myself into a stupor with carbohydrates so I don�t have to feel mad.Thanks, Grandma. Thanks, Mom. You taught me well. �Preciate it.
Now how do I find the way out of it?
Reading: "Son of a Witch : A Novel", by Gregory Maguire. Listening: XM, 70s on 7. CARaoke this morning, with a little Dionne, a little Streisand, and a kick-ass belting out of �Sometimes When We Touch�.
Beading: Working on a purple ice necklace. I�m using three beads per stitch this time, resulting in a flatter, more squared off strand. I like it.
One Year Ago, I found my earring.
At Random: click here
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