Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

My rants, ravings, and overall 'mewsings' on life, the universe, and everything.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Does It Really Matter Who's Right?



Warnin'. This is gonna be a very long blog. Can't help it. Really the only way to get out what's botherin' me tonight.

As Apollo Flytrap said on WKRP in Cincinnati - 'And the hits just keep on comin'!' - today has definitely been a SHIT day. (Normally, thanks to my friend and fellow blogger Rippin-Kitten, S.H.I.T day stands for So Happy It's Thursday day. The end of the week is in sight). Today has NOT been a Happy S.H.I.T day. Just the opposite.
Now, one thing you'll note about my blogs, even when things personally affect me, it's not my practice to name names. Bloggin' for me is an escape from the slings and arrows and shit slingin' in Life. Same as my fan fic writin'. I can't drink, can't overeat, and just took up smokin' cigarillos again from all the stress of the last few days. Forgot how expensive a habit it is.
Sometimes people recognize themselves in the blogs and take offense. In doin' so, they call more attention to themselves than my words did. Whether anyone chooses to read my blogs is their decision. I make no apologies for what gets written. Sometimes it's personal, sometimes it's about politics, sometimes it's about Sons of Anarchy. I blog about Life, the Universe, and EVERYTHING.
Gettin' back to the subject at hand, today bein' a SHIT day. It started with a phone call from my aunt about my dad. The nursin' home people were doin' somethin' to his room, so he decided to go home for a few hours yesterday. Today, he had no energy, was sick to his stomach, and basically lost all the ground he'd gained over the last few weeks, which wasn't much. Instead of enjoyin' a cuppa and some writin' time, the phone lines between Indy and Washington and Indy and New Albany. Learnin' that I was right about Daddy didn't make me happy. The exact opposite.
We're now into day number eight with the missin' kitty boys. I have essentially given up home that they'll ever return at this point. Everyone says it's not my fault that they have disappeared, but there's still that feelin' of responsibility. I mourn them, as there is no knowledge whether they are alive or dead. I hope they're alive and happy.
Meanwhile, I am to start some kind of vitamin supplement that is over the counter. Forget the name of it right now. It combines vitamin c and iron. Apparently my iron count is virtually non existent.
As far as my HLB (heart little brother), the situation deteroriated. As you know from yesterday's blog, the shit slingin' was fast and furious in work email, texts, and FB. Hurtful things were said on both sides. Eventually, sometime after 2 in the mornin', I sent a text to say glad he was home safe and despite all the harsh words, still love him.
Now, the words 'I'm sorry' never were directly said, but were certainly heartfelt, meant, and inferred.
Upon awakenin' there was no response on text or FB. That didn't bode well. I shared my trepidations with Robert, and the FB and texts, as I don't have work email access. He was appalled by the verbal abuse that went on from both sides. His advice was to just go in and try to be a professional about things, and hope there would be time to work it out durin' the day.
So I get to work, nervous as all Hell about the reception. Go to my desk to find utter pandemonium. We have ten people in trainin'. The HLB was workin' as assignment provider and looked a bit stressed, so I slid into my seat and started doin' what I do every day, checkin' the appointments for locations that are three or more hours from the tech centers.
After doin' that, and waitin' a total of 45 mins for an assignment from him, I went to the bathroom and returned to find a post it with an assignment on my computer monitor. Nothin' else but the assignment. I did the work, then sent an email to request new work and proof of what I'd done before the assignment. Added two important words at the end. "I'm sorry."
Reply was a new assignment. No acknowledgement of the apology. I was already nervous and shaking with tears runnin' down my face from the stress. Did my assignment, and Robert called my cell. I let it go to voice mail, so didn't get the message until later. Finished assignment, emailed for a new one, got no answer. Checked phone and found two messages from Robert. He had been stranded by the car breakin' down and the quote was a major expense for which we'd need to scramble for funding.
That was it. I broke down on the floor. Daddy, the cats, the tense situation with Robert for three days, the situation with my HLB, and then the car thing was the last straw. A friend took me off the floor to comfort me, and the team lead came over. I told her about everything but the one situation, but said I would be OK to work (like we could afford for me to leave!).
Returned to my desk, no response to email, no sign of HLB, so I went and retrieved a new assignment post it and wrote the assignment and the time on his clipboard, went back to my desk, and started calling.
Still no word, no glance, no smile, no wave. Plenty of snarky, sarcastic comments about the good news we'd received the day before and how he'd found out about it. Sarcastic comments about the mistakes the new hires had made. I took and made calls based on the assignment while gettin' more nervous and edgy from all the comments.
I couldn't concentrate. Then came an email with another assignment, and no acknowledgement of the apology. I emailed back askin' if the new assignment was to override the one I'd taken. Received reply that he didn't see such. Politely replied my name and the time assignment was taken was on the sheet on his clipboard. (OK, it was in pencil, it was all I could find for cryin' out loud!). I ended with a question, 'do you hate me that much that you're not talkin'?"
He stands up and proceeds to tell me that he doesn't hate me (at least not at that moment); he was waitin' for a public apology. I stood up to face him and replied that he'd been sent apologies last night, and also just that day.
He retorted that he was waitin' for a public apology, like the telephone call I'd made to him the day before. He said he'd blocked my texts and FB (apparently not literally at that time) the night before and never saw 'em.
So I started to give him one. Admittedly, a little on the sarcastic side. I asked for the department's attention, and started to issue the demanded 'public' apology. I'm told not to bother, that we weren't havin' the conversation on the floor. He threw his headset on the desk. I told him that was fine, we could take it downstairs, out of the building, and talk about it there. I left my desk and walked to the elevator, literally sobbin' my eyes out.
He never showed. Finally went back upstairs and found out the little bastard had called the team lead and told her I was causin' a scene and had left the floor. He told me to have my phone ready as the team lead was goin' to call me. I thanked him for that, and got a snide thank you back.
Instead of waitin' for her call, I called her. I told her that the situation was deterioratin' and that the rudeness and the snide remarks were makin' things more difficult. She told me to not talk to him, to use email for the assignments. I told her I would do so and she said she would call him and tell him the same.
Still shakin' and tryin' to do the job and makin' a mess of it, I finish the assignment, send a request, and ended with 'sir'. Not to be snarky or sarcastic, though that's apparently how it was received. I got an inbound call while he stood up again to tell me off about the email.
I signaled that there was an inbound, worked with the customer, and then got a rather fascinating email from him. Ridiculous? Yeah, it surely was.
Titled something like email correspondence, he writes that he 'politely' and 'respectfully' requested the end of all sarcasm on my part in all further communication durin' the evenin'.
Hello? Sent back that said request could also be made of him, and the sir connotation was merely a polite form of address.
He exploded. Called me childish in front of the entire center. Pushin' and pokin' with his words. I told him if he wanted to see childish to look in the mirror, then he called me by the name of one of our former co -workers who gives a whole new definition to drama queen. I told him that wasn't very fair after the many times I'd refused to believe that he had run around to the day crew tellin' them my frustrations about the long distance appointments not bein' called. He seemed surprised by that.
I thought maybe we'd sort things out then. He threw his headset on the desk and stalked away. It then became evident he was goin' to call the team lead again. I made a decision to leave for the day. I called the department director to say that I was goin' home and to let me know if I still had a job the next day. Also called the team lead and left a message tellin' her that the manager was aware that I was leavin' for the day.
I gathered my things, and apologized to my team mate who had shared the last three days of short staffin' with me for leavin' them in the lurch. "I just can't do this anymore today. It hurts too much."
I was openly sobbing at the elevator. One of the team leads from another department asked me if I was OK. He asked if the friend was the problem.
"Oh, God, is it that obvious?"
"He was talking about you earlier today."
In a flash, it was evident that there was credence to the claim I'd defended him over. That betrayal hurt me to the core. The team lead was kind enough to watch me struggle to the car before he went on to lunch. I was shaking and couldn't drive. Called Robert nearly hysterical and frightened him to death. Received a voice mail from my department team lead statin' that it was good that I was leavin', and there would be a sit down about MY behavior on Friday.
Feelin' sick and shaky, in a full blown PTSS attack, I posted on twitter about feelin's, and felt sure he'd think I was stalkin' him. Then I got sick. Barfed all over the freshly manured flora in the parking lot. Returned to the car and passed out. Guess it was an hour or more. Woke up briefly when heard his vehicle - which was parked two spots away from mine - start up and pull out. Woke again when he returned and parked further down the lot from mine. Shakes were gone, Figured I could head home.
Got about half way home when alerted to a text from the girl I'd apologized to for leavin' her in a lurch. Pulled over to a safe place to read the text, which said she'd heard my car was still in the parking lot but no sign of me (!). She wanted to be sure I was OK. Texted back what had occurred, and got a call from my heart sister, who was worried over the posts.
Talkin' to my best friend helped a lot - at the time. Little did I know that the HLB was postin' a series of nasty comments on FB directed at me. No names, but plenty of nastiness (more on that in a bit). Called Robert and told him where I was and comin' on home. Saw text from work friend who wanted me to let her know when I got home safe.
So got home a little after 10, over three hours after clockin' out. Texted the co worker, and shared the apology from text. Spoke with Robert, told him I was gonna try to work with the bike, see if the gunky gas had moved on enough to get
Tig to start. Went to change and then found the comments HLB had posted (on his page) on FB.
They were cruel, vicious, sarcastic, and hurtful. I wouldn't copy/paste them here, even if still had access to them. I can only provide the gist of them. That's gonna be bad enough.
First, he posts how some people seem to like burnin' their bridges with their 'only ally in the workplace' and blasted the telephone call he'd dismissed the night before as 'melodramtic'.
Apparently, the lack of response on my part infuriated him. He made a snarkastic post on FB about the twitter post about bein' in the car in the parkin' lot, sick and upset. Made fun of me for postin' from the car in the first place and that the entire gallery was laughin' at me.
Another post took me to task for postin' about our disagreement on the previous blog (see Fuck Makin' Lemonade Outta Lemons), and for sharin' with others over the interwebz, includin' with the co workers, how this had affected me. Snarked that he imagined this new episode would get blogged about. Damn straight.
The final straw came when he referred to me as a drama queen worse than our former co - worker. I posted a three part offer to get together and work things out. No snarks, no digs, no baseball bats or guns, just two grown adults sittin' down and workin' their way through a problem and comin' to a mutual understandin'.
No response right away, when it came, it was that I'd said enough on twitter and the one co - worker's cell phone. He told me that I had no clue (in all caps) what he'd gone through in the last three days. Made fun of my own pain, makin' light of the things affectin' me in the last week.
That last post tellin' me I had no clue about his own turmoil told me a lot about why he was lashin' out at me. It doesn't excuse his behavior. But explains it. Stated that he didn't want to try to work things out, and posted on his own page yet more snarkasm in my direction.
Repeated my offer to meet face to face and bury the hatchet without gettin' the team lead and department manager involved. He retorted that they were well aware and that the department manager had told him that movin' me from the secluded corner back to the middle of the department with the rest of the team had been against the manager's better judgement (????) and now he was reapin' what he'd sowed for goin' to bat for me.
Well, that roused the infamous temper. Repeated the offer yet again, remindin' him that adults do that kind of thing instead of hidin' behind a computer monitor slingin' poo at one another. He refused with more cuttin' remarks. So I escalated, told him that an adult wouldn't be afraid to face off and make things right, called him the big bad wolf hidin' behind the computer and actin' like a bratty two year old denied somethin' he wanted in the store.
The posts continued to escalate. Now, to his credit, he did ask a few times to cease and desist. I didn't. He'd poked one time too often, grabbin' me by the theorhetical balls and squeezin' 'em like a vice. I was gonna give back for all the things he'd said three hours earlier, make him hurt the way he'd hurt me. The gloves were off.
So I taunted him to come on over, talk it out. Be a man. Back and forth we went.
Then he posted that he had had enough, called me a bitch. Said I'd crossed the line, and he was unfriending and blocking me. Then he put his words into action.
When he first joined our department, a lot of the team felt he was stand offish. He wasn't really. He came up with good ideas that helped us improve the center. We talked together at the end of the night, and the entire night crew was pretty close. Though the day crew made comments about him, I defended him to them.
There were a number of times he would post on my FB account, or we'd trade work emails where he would piss and moan about co workers, the job, the customers. I'd laugh with him, commiserate with him, all from my secluded little corner. (Incidentally, had no idea that bein' in that secluded little corner was a punishment, that I wasn't considered fit to associate with the rest of the work force).
When we had a particularly nasty snow storm in January, he'd asked the night crew to text when we got home. Have never been much of a texter. Just postin' on the Iphone is problematic for me. In the last three months, his texts suggested that it was time to add unlimited messagin' to the phone. He'd text about anythin'/everythin' that bothered him at work, or life, or his other pursuits. We grew closer as a result. When a major crisis happened in his life, I offered support, prayer, concern, everything that was in me to let him know he wasn't alone.
Whatever was buggin' him, he would vent via text to me. Once, and only once, we talked on the phone about somethin' that was botherin' him. I gladly gave up my writin' time to listen to a friend in need. One can always write. When a friend needs someone to talk to, I know where my priorities lie.
He was also there for me when Daddy went into the nursin' home this January. We commiserated on the situation, and I drew strength from what appeared to be genuine concern and care.
In the last week, since losin' the two kitties, things have deteriorated. My health is a mess (see above), Robert and I were on the outs for a few days, the situation with my father deteriorated. The PTSS and depression were kickin' my ass big time. From Sunday through Wednesday, nothin' was goin' right. I couldn't talk to my husband durin' the first two days - we didn't make up until Tuesday night - and I turned to the interwebz and to my HLB for strength.
Except he seemed not to be there. He complained to me about one of his projects and how much he didn't care anymore about much of anything. We were both stressed about work and bein' short staffed. I'd hoped on Sunday, which was a day off but part of which was spent at work to help out with the calls and to get away from the troubles at home, that he and I could go someplace and I could vent for once.
Didn't happen. Valid excuse. He was takin' the other co - worker home. No biggie. Asked again if we could get together after work on his second day off. He declined. Hey, again, no biggie.
Then comes Wednesday and the shit hit the fan.
In retrospect, it appears that the telephone call I made to him is what set him off the most. It was a repeated theme in all his posts and texts and FB mail. To him, it was bad enough that I'd called in the first place, but because of the staffin' and bein' unable to get away from my desk, that I'd made the call from there and he'd been texted by three different people in three different departments about it!
Huh?
I kept it pretty quiet, despite the emotions involved, and to the best of my memory, do not recall referrin' to him by name. It's possible I did, but still tried to keep it on the QT. To refresh memory (in case y'all don't wanna go back to the lemonade blog), the call came as a response to his text beratin' me for havin' bothered him with work related BS. It was also a response to no acknowledgement that someone had gone to bat for him where the good news was concerned. Both stung.
Should I have called him at all? In 20/20 hindsight, obviously not. Was it wrong to want to share good news with him, let him know someone had his back? I didn't think so. Yet, when our co worker posted that we'd gotten good news at work, he clicked 'like' on her post. I got the snark.
Should I have pushed to settle the matter once and for all between us? Again, perfect 20/20 hindsight says obviously not.
The thing I'm preparin' for now, based on his furious posts, is that I will likely not have a job tomorrow. He knows how to play the game, and despite the negativity he's displayed to the managers in our department to the rest of us, he will turn this entire episode into somethin' that is solely my fault.
And they'll fall for it hook, line, and sinker.
If life has taught me anything, it's that it's better to be prepared for the worst, and then be surprised when the worst doesn't happen.
Do I mourn the loss of the former HLB? Hell yes. Maybe there was a bit of a crush goin' on there as well. We shared so many interests, so many experiences. I knew nothin' could come of the crush for many reasons. First and foremost is that I love Robert dearly. Yet I felt a connection to this man. We seemed close like family, which is why I 'adopted' him as a chosen member of my family.
But now I can't shed any tears for what has been irrevocably lost. I'm not sayin' that I'm the innocent party here. Hell, in retrospect, some of the behavior on my part isn't somethin' to be proud of. When pushed, even a sloth will retaliate.
Was it so wrong to want to be appreciated for lookin' out for someone? Was it so wrong to want an acknowledgement that the two most important words a person can say - 'I'm sorry' - were accepted and things would work out? How was I to know that he wanted a public, verbal, 'I'm sorry' out of the gate? Wasn't the obvious pain and discomfort that everyone else could see indication enough of my genuine remorse?
Apparently not.
Two wrongs don't make a right, and Friday is gonna be hell once again. I may come home without a job, feelin' even worse than I feel now. As it is, I've been unable to eat. Have been able to hold down some tepid cola and water, but the thought of food makes me want to gag all over again.
Strange, I think back to the initial offer made in FB mail Wednesday night. 'I can't do this anymore. You're right, I'm wrong. I exist only to be emotionally shit upon by those I care about most. First my father, then my husband, then you. I wish that we could talk this out like grown ups, instead of tossin' texts and msgs but you won't have the decency to do that.'
I was right about that, but does it really matter?

1 Comments:

Blogger the mad LOLscientist said...

Just read thru the saga of your last week or so…had no idea just how much it sucks to be you these daze…

Tons of warm thoughts coming your way! not to mention great honkin' cyber(((((HUGGZ))))) & *purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrz*

~Mad =^..^=

March 23, 2012 at 12:58 PM  

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