Ass
I haven't updated since the move, although I know lotus_seed and quakey have been brought up to speed on what's going on with me and my life. Here's the recap for all those who haven't yet heard:
I toasted farewell to my friends in Ann Arbor, chucked half my worldly possessions, put the rest in the back of my grandfather's Prius, and on August 14 he drove me to western PA, where we met my father, transferred my things into HIS Prius, and then drove the rest of the way to West Point the next day. I spent my first night in my new apartment the 16th, intending to walk in to my first day of work the next morning. That night, my washing machine malfunctioned and dripped from the second floor down to the first, where I was sleeping. Trying to get this sorted out--as well as a problem with the water heater and with the gas not being turned on--meant that I did not return to the apartment for another two weeks.
But the next morning I did start at my new job, and was immediately greeted by two out of my seven subordinates being such tremendous assfucks that after my first day of work I had a massive panic attack that involved uncontrollable shivering, weeping, and vomiting.
No, I did not get a wink of sleep that night or the night after. Yes, I went back to work the next day. And the day after and every weekday since, save the holiday. Yes, I am staying in the job, for now. Yes, I am also in the market for another one ASAP.
Every minute of work sucks (even when my boss is telling me that I'm doing amazingly well in a very difficult situation) and my apartment is giving me many headaches and I am very dependent on my parents for help getting around (until the deal struck today goes through on Monday and gets me a Prius of my very own to pay insurance and gas on) and I hate this area even MORE than I did in high school and I have no friends.
I am trying to address these things. It goes...but not very fast.
After two days of constant panic attacks bad enough that I could not eat (at least, eat and keep it down) or sleep, my father got me a referral to a psychiatrist. With a prescription pad and everything. It took another week before I could see her but let me just say very loud and clear GOD BLESS XANAX AND REMERON. They are the reason (well, that and my family's constant help...but I pay for that by being subject to nagging) that I am functioning well enough to handle my job-stress and then come home and maybe halfway enjoy my leisure hours and make preparations for finding something better to do with my life.
Memorial Day weekend I spent with Lotus and Quakey at Kumoricon. It was awesome, if a little disorganized and WAY crowded, they were even MORE awesome, not least for putting up with me being homesick for Portland (where I've never lived), jetlagged, off my Xanax for drinking purposes, and wound up by all the positive stress of having fun and being away from Highland Falls. Also, ladies, you both had the most wonderful shocked/horrified expressions when I told you that the only grocery store in town does not stock soy sauce. Shoulda snapped a picture of it with my camera.
2 days in Portland made me question my life decisions like no one's business. I don't think it helped that I started PMSing liek whoa shortly after getting home...still, crying in the airport because you had to leave a city you've barely even seen in daylight is pretty extreme even for PMS.
Still, I'm doing something about it now, like the psychiatrist told me to. I have my resume updated. I'm looking into a Master's of Public Administration program that's offered at night on the base. I'm getting a car to get some mobility. I reserved a room in a hotel in Brooklyn for this coming Friday, so that I can go to the benefit party/book reading for Julia Wertz of The Fart Party and then just flop into a comfy bed without riding the MetroNorth all the way back home at a scary time of night.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Also, today I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment and solving the problem meant my dad knocking a hole in the door. So the title of this post is "Ass" and I'm sticking to THAT, too.
I toasted farewell to my friends in Ann Arbor, chucked half my worldly possessions, put the rest in the back of my grandfather's Prius, and on August 14 he drove me to western PA, where we met my father, transferred my things into HIS Prius, and then drove the rest of the way to West Point the next day. I spent my first night in my new apartment the 16th, intending to walk in to my first day of work the next morning. That night, my washing machine malfunctioned and dripped from the second floor down to the first, where I was sleeping. Trying to get this sorted out--as well as a problem with the water heater and with the gas not being turned on--meant that I did not return to the apartment for another two weeks.
But the next morning I did start at my new job, and was immediately greeted by two out of my seven subordinates being such tremendous assfucks that after my first day of work I had a massive panic attack that involved uncontrollable shivering, weeping, and vomiting.
No, I did not get a wink of sleep that night or the night after. Yes, I went back to work the next day. And the day after and every weekday since, save the holiday. Yes, I am staying in the job, for now. Yes, I am also in the market for another one ASAP.
Every minute of work sucks (even when my boss is telling me that I'm doing amazingly well in a very difficult situation) and my apartment is giving me many headaches and I am very dependent on my parents for help getting around (until the deal struck today goes through on Monday and gets me a Prius of my very own to pay insurance and gas on) and I hate this area even MORE than I did in high school and I have no friends.
I am trying to address these things. It goes...but not very fast.
After two days of constant panic attacks bad enough that I could not eat (at least, eat and keep it down) or sleep, my father got me a referral to a psychiatrist. With a prescription pad and everything. It took another week before I could see her but let me just say very loud and clear GOD BLESS XANAX AND REMERON. They are the reason (well, that and my family's constant help...but I pay for that by being subject to nagging) that I am functioning well enough to handle my job-stress and then come home and maybe halfway enjoy my leisure hours and make preparations for finding something better to do with my life.
Memorial Day weekend I spent with Lotus and Quakey at Kumoricon. It was awesome, if a little disorganized and WAY crowded, they were even MORE awesome, not least for putting up with me being homesick for Portland (where I've never lived), jetlagged, off my Xanax for drinking purposes, and wound up by all the positive stress of having fun and being away from Highland Falls. Also, ladies, you both had the most wonderful shocked/horrified expressions when I told you that the only grocery store in town does not stock soy sauce. Shoulda snapped a picture of it with my camera.
2 days in Portland made me question my life decisions like no one's business. I don't think it helped that I started PMSing liek whoa shortly after getting home...still, crying in the airport because you had to leave a city you've barely even seen in daylight is pretty extreme even for PMS.
Still, I'm doing something about it now, like the psychiatrist told me to. I have my resume updated. I'm looking into a Master's of Public Administration program that's offered at night on the base. I'm getting a car to get some mobility. I reserved a room in a hotel in Brooklyn for this coming Friday, so that I can go to the benefit party/book reading for Julia Wertz of The Fart Party and then just flop into a comfy bed without riding the MetroNorth all the way back home at a scary time of night.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Also, today I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment and solving the problem meant my dad knocking a hole in the door. So the title of this post is "Ass" and I'm sticking to THAT, too.