whatever.
Good news is that I've lost enough weight now that people are starting to notice (and remark) about it instead of how beastly fat they think I am which is good for morale. Bad news, they add that they can tell in my face. Which brings me to the John Pinnet "Oh? How big was my head?? Watch out for John he's got a head the size of a man hole!" Yeah.
Good news: today was payday and not a moment too soon. Bad news, yesterday, the worst day of my entire fucking life. That doesn't exactly say much, but seriously. The highlight was how I went on a home evaluation and parked my car on the shoulder of the side street my patient lives on. And my car proceded to sink up to the frame on the passenger side- funny part of that is that my coworker Gigi who is tiny and filipena and petite in a way that I the giant white woman cannot fathom is with me and sitting in my passenger seat. and, as we realize we are sinking and tipping her way, she announces that it is because of her body weight that the car is sinking, unbuckles, climbs over the center golve box thingie and exits the car out of the rear drivers side door. Yes, certainly Gigi, you are not heavy enough to trigger the SEATBELT light, but of course the car sinking in the mud is occuring because of your body weight. All 60lbs of it. Back to the story: Payday is today, not yesterday, so yesterday I have about 3 bucks in my account, no cash on me, we just maxed out the credit cards on Paul's car and my cell phone is completely dead. Riiiiiiiight. I call my boss on my patient's phone, he was apparently unconcerned, because he proceded to dissapear for the next hour and forty minutes. My patient calls a tow truck, we complete the home evaluation, the tow truck arrives, pulls my car out- good thing too, it had continued to sink gradually toward the drainage ditch. The guy cracked my front grill but I suppose that was unavoidable. $65. On a credit card that by the power of baby Jesus was accepted. We drive back to Heartland. Leaving a solid mud skid mark on the road, and also, my car cannot go faster than around 25 miles per hour or it shakes violently. Upon walking back into the gym, I cry. Sorry, girl. Jay comes into the gym and orders me into his office where he tells me that one, I need to not cry in front of 30 people because it is looking bad on him, two it is not his fault so I cant be mad. I attempted to inform him that things like this are scary and they suck. and it doesn't matter if you have someone to blame or not, it sucks either way, but I'm not retarded and I know it's not his fault. He tells me I can't leave the office til I stop "doing that" and he leaves. and I go back to the gym, and cry some more because thats what happens when everyone asks if you are ok, and you realize that you don't have even enough money on you to spray your tires off in a quarter car wash. Awesome. Again, Jay comes and gets me and puts me back in his office where I am told again I must stay until I stop crying.
I left when he left just to stick it to him even though I wasn't done.
That was the high point of my day.
From there I left and went home, got quarters and plugged my phone in long enough to call my dealership and ask them what I should do about the shaking. They reccomended hosind down the wheels really good and then driving it for at least 30 minutes. I do the hosing thing, become soaking wet from the waist down, return home, Paul joins me and we go to spray the tires again. I changed my clothes quick because my pants were dripping. The car shakes violently to the car wash, we wash the wheel wells, and it gets better. Then we drive to my mothers. And as soon as we walk in the door.
She tells us how horrible it is that we left Tango there while she was preparing her dinner for my aunts and uncle and how we're evil inconsiderate people who can't do anything right. I attempted to fill her in on why and she cut me off the tell me that I should have called. I tried to explain that my phone died, she wasn't interested, so, whatever. I give up, I can't do this shit anymore, there's no point. I could mention how Paul discussed leaving the dog for a couple hours the day before, or how we shoveled her entire fucking yard, or how I cooked dinner on my dime for her friends the day of a medical procedure and she showed up forty minutes late, or how she seems to think that when I invite over all my coworkers and their kids to go to bounce house that's a good night for all her dogs to be at my house.
But nothing compares to my dog or whatever he happened to do in the two hours I was stranded in Rochester in the mud. Because I'm just an evil inconsiderate person who plots for these things to happen, surely I taught my dog how to be bad for her on this particular day, I must have spent weeks on it. You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?
But I have to smile all night, even though I'm upset and hurt and angry, and when we got home at quarter to ten pm, our house reeked of skunk. (my guess is the skunk started to make a home out of the woodchuck hole, and then met the woodchuck, the woodchuck attempted to murder the skunk for tresspass, and the skunk sprayed. From what I read online it's going to smell for a while, and there's really not a whole lot I can do. I went to bed around midnight, and was up around 5:30 for my 6:30 am all staff meeting. I got off today at five to five.
I kind of don't really want to live anymore at this point.
I'm checking into psychiatric intervention tomorrow.
Good news: today was payday and not a moment too soon. Bad news, yesterday, the worst day of my entire fucking life. That doesn't exactly say much, but seriously. The highlight was how I went on a home evaluation and parked my car on the shoulder of the side street my patient lives on. And my car proceded to sink up to the frame on the passenger side- funny part of that is that my coworker Gigi who is tiny and filipena and petite in a way that I the giant white woman cannot fathom is with me and sitting in my passenger seat. and, as we realize we are sinking and tipping her way, she announces that it is because of her body weight that the car is sinking, unbuckles, climbs over the center golve box thingie and exits the car out of the rear drivers side door. Yes, certainly Gigi, you are not heavy enough to trigger the SEATBELT light, but of course the car sinking in the mud is occuring because of your body weight. All 60lbs of it. Back to the story: Payday is today, not yesterday, so yesterday I have about 3 bucks in my account, no cash on me, we just maxed out the credit cards on Paul's car and my cell phone is completely dead. Riiiiiiiight. I call my boss on my patient's phone, he was apparently unconcerned, because he proceded to dissapear for the next hour and forty minutes. My patient calls a tow truck, we complete the home evaluation, the tow truck arrives, pulls my car out- good thing too, it had continued to sink gradually toward the drainage ditch. The guy cracked my front grill but I suppose that was unavoidable. $65. On a credit card that by the power of baby Jesus was accepted. We drive back to Heartland. Leaving a solid mud skid mark on the road, and also, my car cannot go faster than around 25 miles per hour or it shakes violently. Upon walking back into the gym, I cry. Sorry, girl. Jay comes into the gym and orders me into his office where he tells me that one, I need to not cry in front of 30 people because it is looking bad on him, two it is not his fault so I cant be mad. I attempted to inform him that things like this are scary and they suck. and it doesn't matter if you have someone to blame or not, it sucks either way, but I'm not retarded and I know it's not his fault. He tells me I can't leave the office til I stop "doing that" and he leaves. and I go back to the gym, and cry some more because thats what happens when everyone asks if you are ok, and you realize that you don't have even enough money on you to spray your tires off in a quarter car wash. Awesome. Again, Jay comes and gets me and puts me back in his office where I am told again I must stay until I stop crying.
I left when he left just to stick it to him even though I wasn't done.
That was the high point of my day.
From there I left and went home, got quarters and plugged my phone in long enough to call my dealership and ask them what I should do about the shaking. They reccomended hosind down the wheels really good and then driving it for at least 30 minutes. I do the hosing thing, become soaking wet from the waist down, return home, Paul joins me and we go to spray the tires again. I changed my clothes quick because my pants were dripping. The car shakes violently to the car wash, we wash the wheel wells, and it gets better. Then we drive to my mothers. And as soon as we walk in the door.
She tells us how horrible it is that we left Tango there while she was preparing her dinner for my aunts and uncle and how we're evil inconsiderate people who can't do anything right. I attempted to fill her in on why and she cut me off the tell me that I should have called. I tried to explain that my phone died, she wasn't interested, so, whatever. I give up, I can't do this shit anymore, there's no point. I could mention how Paul discussed leaving the dog for a couple hours the day before, or how we shoveled her entire fucking yard, or how I cooked dinner on my dime for her friends the day of a medical procedure and she showed up forty minutes late, or how she seems to think that when I invite over all my coworkers and their kids to go to bounce house that's a good night for all her dogs to be at my house.
But nothing compares to my dog or whatever he happened to do in the two hours I was stranded in Rochester in the mud. Because I'm just an evil inconsiderate person who plots for these things to happen, surely I taught my dog how to be bad for her on this particular day, I must have spent weeks on it. You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?
But I have to smile all night, even though I'm upset and hurt and angry, and when we got home at quarter to ten pm, our house reeked of skunk. (my guess is the skunk started to make a home out of the woodchuck hole, and then met the woodchuck, the woodchuck attempted to murder the skunk for tresspass, and the skunk sprayed. From what I read online it's going to smell for a while, and there's really not a whole lot I can do. I went to bed around midnight, and was up around 5:30 for my 6:30 am all staff meeting. I got off today at five to five.
I kind of don't really want to live anymore at this point.
I'm checking into psychiatric intervention tomorrow.