Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

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

Friday, March 23, 2012

It's Over Now, Time to Pick Up the Pieces

I was in what Robert calls 'biker mode' on Friday. Followin' Thursday's debacle and breakdown, it was the best armour to wear. Turned out it was a good decision. It allowed the eyes to really see what the heart refused to allow it to see before.
After the way things went at work Thursday, went in prepared for the probability of losin' my job. Fortunately, that did not happen. Nor was I put on any kind of disciplinary action, though not from a lack of tryin' by the other party (the person formerly known as the little brother of my heart or HLB)!
Went in a couple of hours early to make up some of the missed time from yesterday, the other party was late. I almost hoped he wasn't goin' to come in at all, which would make the day a little easier. Then I chided myself for such an uncharitable thought, as it occurred that he could have called in because of a turn for the worse with his deathly ill parent. Something I could still sympathize with as I'd just learned that mornin' that Daddy had been admitted to the ICU at the hospital with pneumonia. (Those are not words one wants to wake up to, believe me!) Such a thing is somethin' I wouldn't wish on anyone, even a worst enemy.
A little after 2pm, the department manager collected the two of us for a meeting to work out the issue (sound familiar?) Possibly, in retrospect, he might've been better off to talk to one person first. Get that person's full story, then talk to the other and get theirs, then bring the two together. Unfortunately, he chose the more time expidient method.
Whenever you get two fuedin' parties in front of a neutral arbitrator, it seems that one person always takes the 'alpha' approach, overtalkin' and interruptin' when they sense they're not winnin'. That 'alpha' often makes an ass of his or herself, tempers flare and the situation goes downhill without a strong arbitrator (think Judge Judy/Joe Brown).
Hell, this meeting would've made an interestin' episode of Jerry Springer, minus the bared boobs and beads! There certainly would've been a few bleeps! To his credit, our department manager is a very kind - hearted man who gives a lot of respect to his team. Probably more respect than we realize. He attempted to set the goals for the meeting, which was for us to talk things out as adults.
I knew in my heart that this wasn't going to happen. Been there/done that. As aoon as the manager said he was open to hear what anybody had to say, the other party's mouth went into overdrive before I even had a chance to draw breath.
Given the posts he'd put on FB Thursday night that were tauntin', hurtful, and completely unnecessary, I had a feelin' what direction the other party would take and made a sarcastic noise.. The manager called me on it, and I apologized, realizin' it would be better to let him run his mouth, then tear apart his story point by point.
So I let him spew. And he spewed like Old Faithful with a bad case of stomach flue. It was a tirade of epic proportions that he delivered with cunning condescension. I have that meetin' recorded for posterity on my quick memo app.
He began the character assassination by bemoanin' how he received texts, FB posts and emails related to work from yours truly every 15 mins durin' his precious three days off in a row. He stated that he didn't want to be bothered with work related matters on his days off, he'd told me this in no uncertain terms, and I got bent out of shape about it.
That came as a complete surprise, and was certainly not the case, so there was the first bending of the truth. This coming from the same spoiled brat who had appended an email I was required to write to the manager and team lead one recent Sunday re: why the team didn't make the goal. His piggy - back comment stated 'my team knows they can call or text me anytime for help with work related matters when I'm off.'
2) He didn't want to bring the problem the day before into work on Thursday. But because he wouldn't discuss it with me 'on my terms', yours truly turned to sarcastic comments and "smart ass" emails to him. I learned then that was when he made his first of many calls to the team lead and the department manager to complain about my behavior. Supposedly, he was told that if things persisted in that manner, she'd send one of us home.
3) He claimed that I suddenly leaped up from my chair to start to make a smart aleck public apology to him, and denied he ever stood up to tell me he was waiting for such from me! (Second lie). Y'all know that while he'd said he wasn't havin' the discussion on the floor and we were supposed to meet outside to talk about it that he actually went off to call the team lead yet again and the results of that second call.
4) His next claim was to remark about my continued harassment of him after I'd clocked out oand left the building. That he was bombarded with posts from me on his FB page and on our other team mate's cell phone about how upset he'd made me to the point of bein' sick - all comin' from the parking lot for nearly two hours. (Damn! I'm pretty talented to be able to write texts and post on FB when I'm passed out for the same amount of time!)
At this point, the manager interjected to ask if the other party had blocked me. That was the first true thing the other party uttered. I stated the other party was also blocked from my account. The company has no problem with co - workers bein' FB friends, thought there are some guidelines, like not talkin' about work related stuff on the public timeline. Private messagin' might be a different thing.
(He'd recently butted heads with another co-worker he'd accepted as a friend, who had written a post to him on his private FB messaging about a work related issue. He currently has a report in to the ethics board on her. Since it wasn't on the public timeline, it's likely the ethics panel will not see it the same way he does, despite his reference to the employee handbook. Guess we'll see).
The manager threw the first unexpected curve ball back at the other party by stating that he couldn't fault me for makin' use of the communication tools the other party had invited me to use. That didn't set well with his majesty. He couldn't keep his yap shut long enough to hear the manager and kept overtalkin' him!
Point, Lowecat.
I'd listened quietly to his diatribe, despite hearing the sneering condescension in his voice and the manipulative twistin' of the facts to suit him. I was on a slow simmer the entire time. When it was my turn to talk, I'll admit to usin' a somewhat condescindin' tone myself.
Point, the other party.
"He's tellin' you a very wonderful story that paints him out to be the 'oh poor poor victim' in this thing --"
The other party interjected with this taunt, "Go on, Myra! Let's hear your side!"
I snapped right back with "Excuse me, did I interrupt you when you were talkin'?"
"Yes!" he crowed triumphantly.
"OK, one time," I admitted.
The manager interceded and allowed me to continue.
I addressed the communications on his off days, regretfully not mentionin' the email noted earlier. Admittedly, it would've been sweet to rub that one in his face.
Point, the other party.
So I worked through his claims:
1) Yes, the other party received an email from my work address, very brief, sharin' the good news about the salary bump. In response to this sharin' of good news, I get an email reply from the other party (email from his work not personal account) 'oh, I guess since I'm making more than the new base, I get a reduction in pay!' Because I was also distributin' assignments that day, I didn't respond to him right away. When the time presented itself, I did reply that the other party might want to ask our manager about it. Withini seconds came the response that he wasn't goin' to the manager as he hadn't heard officially from anyone but me.
Well, snicklefritz couldn't keep his yap shut. He jumped right in to defend his email. I called him on his outburst, as I'd stayed quiet after my initial one and let him spew. The other party's mouth was in overdrive as he called me out as a liar.
"If you're gonna tell the story, at least tell the truth!"
That did it. "I AM tellin' the truth, darlin' I have the proof!"
Point, the other party.
"So do I, and this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday!" he spat back. "It wasn't all on company email anyway!"
I indicated to the manager that this was the attitude/behavior I'd experienced the previous day. The manager was tryin' to get the other party's attention, but the kid just kept on yappin'.
Point, Lowecat.
The manager finally managed to get a word in edgewise. "We're trying to get your attention. Myra has the floor, she let you talk uninterrupted, now you need to give her the same courtesy."
Point, Lowecat.
Unfotunately, I didn't maintain the upper hand for long. "If he wants to go tit for tat, I can go there too. I'm in full biker mode, my father's in the hospital in ICU as of today - just as his -"
"Well my mother is too!" he cut in with a whine.
Considerin' I'd been about to mention that same fact, I blew up and retorted the worse thing possible at the moment. "Well, la de da!"
"That's your attitude!" he spat.
"It is now!"
"That's been your attitude for three days now!"
"Now that's not true, and you know it!"
He sniped back "It's a work relationship now, and that's all there is to it!"
"It's not even that! It's not even a work relationship with the way you're behavin' right now!"
Our poor manager again tried to calm things down, get out focus back on the matter at hand by gettin' the two of us to listen to each other. I was too angry and hurt by the other party's comment by that time to listen.
After some back and forth between the two of us, The other party wanted to present himself as tryin' to be the professional and I was the unreasonable one. He claimed that what I was bringin' to the table had nothin' to do with the job, and he never wanted to discuss the matter at the workplace anyway.
"We shouldn't even be here!"
"I agree, but when the situation is preventin' one from bein' able to do their job --"
"That's your hang up, not mine!"
The manager told us we were both actin' like a couple of kids. He was right. We were like a couple of spoiled brats fightin' over who gets the prize toy on the playground. I had no idea how to stop myself at that time. Neither could the other party.
The other party brought up the same refrain that because things weren't goin' my way, I was gettin' bent outta shape, so I asked him if he had a degree in mental health. "Since you don't know me, quit sayin' what I think or feel. Do not make diagnosis about me."
"What have I diagnosed?"
I just didn't dignify it with an answer. The manager at least let me explain to him what had been goin' on that week with Daddy, the furbabies, the disagreement with the hsuband - everything was comin' in at one time. Then I read the text I sent that triggered the whole thing my phone call to him that started the problems between us.
The other party tried to lie his way out of his response, and I threw my phone right on the desk with HIS response in black and white including an eight letter word he claimed he'd never used in relation to work. Lie exposed.
But it didn't end there. He slung verbal poo, I slung it back. When he tried again to lie about the public apology, I yelled at him to shut up.
"Just shut up and listen for once in your life! You know damn well you did, right in front of the entire center! I figured if that's what you wanted to make you happy, I'd give it to you."
The manager decided to go to HR about the problem, he stated that we cared about each other and the fightin' was a facade.
"No, there is no care for each other, not any more." I stated.
The other party had to get more licks in, snidely commentin' on bein' my shoulder to cry on about the cats and Robert, and then tried to play the sexual harassment card.
"I felt that we were crossing boundaries as everyone in the center was talking about us. She didn't like it when I called a halt to it."
Oh. My. Frackin'. God! Granted, I had experienced a bit of a crush on him. We shared so many things, but tryin' to force him into an affair? He returned the hugs for Christ sake! He used little endearments like 'dear, honey.' Hell, he'd even gone so far as to leave a note under the windsheild of my car that said 'Love ya!" with a smiley face on it. My car, by the way, was parked at home.
Yet I'm the instigator?
The manager decided that it was best to turn the matter over to HR. He knew he was in over his head and couldn't get past our stubborness to help us. By that time, I was seein' my former HLB in a totally different light. He was a liar, a fact manipulator, cruelly condescending when he wasn't gettin' what he wanted. Basically, he had turned from a knight in shining armor to a shitty asshole.
Tie match.
We were sent back out to the call center. I walked with my head held high, but inside was doin' a simmer of rage. I sat down and did the job. The other party chatted it up with the rest of the crew like he's cock of the walk. I kept listenin' to him remark about the customers, the quality of in bound calls we were gettin' and his snide dismissals of the customers. I overheard him many times transfer people to another department because he didn't want to call the techs to ask their ETA.
My mind flashed back over the past few months since he'd joined our department. One of my co workers on days had mentioned his 'holier than thou/know it all attitude', but I had foolishly defended the other party. Listenin' to him speak to the customers brought to mind the number of times he would rudely shut down a customer who was arguin' with him and the number of times they'd call right back, get me, and complain about him.
I thought of the way he'd griped and moaned to me about our manager and team lead when he didn't get his way. Most recently was the distribution of the new schedule a couple of weeks ago. He claimed that with the 4/10 shift, he was promised certain days off. The team lead who writes the schedule had told all of us there would be no set days off.
The schedule was delayed gettin' to us due to an off site trainin' session the team lead had attended. We got the new schedule the day before the old one ran out. Forgettin' that the other party had access to work email and could check for the schedule himself, I had sent a text to him that he was workin' the next day. What followed was a flurry of work emails and text messages complainin' over his inability to contact the mgr and team lead and beggin' our help.
Yet, he didn't want to be bothered with work related emails.
Whether the love you have for a person is filial, eros, or agape, it can make one blind to their faults. Wakin' up out of the dream and findin' out how rotten they really are underneath is a shocker.
The meetin' with the HR rep went a little better. At least no one yelled. Just as before, the other party did his thing about tryin' to paint himself the pitiful victim, and me as the irraitional rejected female. This time around, I didn't interject anything, just bided my time. When the HR rep asked for it, I quietly explained my side of things, includin' addin' in what hadn't been brought up previously, the amount of time it had taken for him to provide me with an assignment from first walkin' in.
Well, he tried to cover that, by statin' that while he was givin' out assignments, he wasn't at a desk to get his emails to know that I needed one, yet he'd seen me come in to begin work. I let him dig his hole, then I pointed out the holes in the story.
"Why would I send someone an email askin' for an assignment when it was obvious that the person was not at his desk and had no access to email in the first place? Addiitionally, he walked straight past my back askin' 'do you have an assignment?' and didn't stop to give one to me at that time, even though he'd seen me come in for the day and knew I needed an assignment to start the day. It wasn't until I'd gone to the bathroom and returned that a post it with an assignment was found stuck to my monitor, some 44 minutes after clockin' in."
Point, Lowecat.
Game point.
The HR rep was interested in that aspect of things, and inquired into the process of distributin', learnin' at that time that the night shift had been without a team lead for nearly a month (I suspect that situation may soon change!). She also learned that the duty rotated amongst the night crew, with the exception of myself, who'd been removed from doin' so by the mgr and the team lead that very day.
"I don't care whether I distribute or not, though it's always been my practice to get the assignments to people as quickly as possible. My personal preference is to get the requests and send them in email, so I have a record of who asked for what and when in case its' not possible to put 'em down on the tally sheet right away. If the managers believe this duty is not good for the team, I can only accept their decision and move on."
The end result was that the other party was put on notice that I would obviously continue my requests to him in email, and he was to respond in kind. If there is a delay of more than five minutes, I just forward the request and eventual answer to the mgt team. I can live with that.
Game, set, match, Lowecat.
During the remainder of the day, I was on the outside of the team lookin' in. Where before I had been included in the conversations, it flowed over and around me, but did not include me. The person who was distributin' was between a rock and a hard place that night, so I put little demands on her, communicatin' my needs by email and lettin' her know I wasn't upset at her in any way, size, shape or form, just tryin' to make things easier for her.
When the shift ended, I gathered my things and walked away, not once speaking to the other party. He didn't say anything to me. I didn't expect him to. After the way he'd behaved, it was best that he didn't.
He claims that all we now have is a professional relationship. We don't even have that. It's going to be a pain in the ass to deal with him on the days he distributes assignments. He has shown that he is capable of anything and will stoop as low as possible to harm those he considers an enemy.
I don't entertain any ideas that he'll ever try to make amends. He feels he has nothing to apologize for, despite the negative things he posted on FB at me, in private mail and texts to me.
I made my apology, and that's all I owe him.
IF, however, he ever says those two words, they will be received for what they're worth. The doors he bricked shut will not be reopened. That path has been closed for good.
I've had a few hours to sleep on this, and to relisten to the two meetings. I'm not proud of some of my behavior during the first meeting. I'm not happy that the management team arbitrarily decided to remove me from the distributor rotation without first givin' me the courtesy of alertin' me first. I learned via email to the entire team that day I was replaced.
So this is the last I'm goin' to be sayin' on this matter. Three blogs worth is more than enough.
To those of you who have been supportive, thank you. Your thoughts, prayers, kind words have not gone unnoticed. I bear some of the responsibility for this friendship - if there ever wasa such a friendship - dyin' the way it did. I don't bear all of the responsibility and do not accept all the responsibility. Nor should I be expected to.
A part of me would like to believe that at the time affections were shared by the other party that he genuinely meant them. Nor am I creeped out that he found my house one late night and left a note under my car windsheild. So he knows where I live. He's the least of my concerns.
If he worries that I might share certain things he told me in confidence, includin' certain things he told me about managers and co workers, he need not. I am capable of keepin' confidences, even if the person who shared them has shown he cannot be trusted.

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!
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?

Fuck Makin' Lemonade Outta Lemons!

This last week has not been the easiest week. As many of you that follow me on the twitterverse and Facebook know, two of my kitties are missin'. A full week later, and they're still missin'. That's bad enough. Things have gone downhill from there.
There are two bright spots. First, the DH and I are not at odds any more. We talked about the situation at long last, and came to an understandin' (see the previous blog) . He apologized. So did I. It's what people who love each other do, but sometimes ya wade through a hell of a lot of mud (or worse) to get there.
Have gotten thyroid under control, now my anemia has shot sky high, not sure what the doc is gonna wanna do to fix that. Both arms look like someone threw a boulder on 'em from the blood tests taken on me. Results from latest blood work in, playin' phone tag with doctor's office on that matter, and not sure what the treatment will be.
Daddy is gettin' restless about bein' in the nursin' home. He wants to go home, and is very frustrated with me that I'm not in favor of it - unless he gets a home health care visit every day. Since the pattern of the last year is that he goes there, gets his strength back, and then goes home only to lose every bit of headway he gains, I feel like a home health visitor is needed for him to go home. So, he yelled at me over the phone for not bein' more supportive of him. Hollered, yelled, raised his voice. Fury. Anger. Accusation of not carin' about him while I'm talkin' to the Nursin' Home people long distance to make this goin' home thing possible.
I feel guilty that the two kitties got out from my carelessness with that garage door. One of the kitties is a fosterling, that a good friend and former on - air employer entrusted to me for 'safe' keepin'. (HA!). Well, we see how long that lasted! That's why I didn't post their names for the last week. She's been recoverin' from a near deadly car accident last year, in a lot of pain, and I didn't want to add to it. Well, that cat gpt let out of the bag (no pun intended). She knows, and she was encouragin' and forgivin'. Considerin' I'm havin' a hard time forgivin' myself.
Me birth mother had another episode, sendin' a letter tellin' me of some kind of strange thing that she saw on my back 30 odd years ago and suggestin' it might be somethin' serious and should be checked. This was her response to my letter after Christmas statin' why it was not a good idea for us to re - establish communications. Her chronic mental illness and bein' the focus of her mania is just too much to endure. For that, I've been called hateful and callous.
Then, finally, the straw that has broken my spirit. Today we learned of good news at work. Comin' off a three week period of bein' short staffed on the night shift, it was nice to have somethin' positive.
My heart - little brother (he's not related to me in any way, size, shape, or form, but I love him as much as a blood relative. He's the little bother I never had, and loved as much as my older step - brother) blew up at me via long distance after I shared this news with him. It was brutal, and harsh words were exchanged on both sides.
He was off work today and wasn't in on the news. Wanted to share it with him and how I'd also brought to the attention of the people in charge that his shift was every bit as deservin' of shift differential as mine. I really played devil's advocate with them, askin' questions that hadn't been asked and needed to be asked. The upshot is that the shift differential thing is under consideration.
Well, my HLB didn't see it as good news. He emailed a snarky remark. I responded what a suggestion, and got more snark. Let it ride a couple of hours, then sent a text that was intended to be funny, but apparently didn't get received that way.
A little digression here, texts and emails don't let ya see the other person's face/expressions or tone of voice. You don't hear/see the 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink, big evil grin' of in person communications. Words alone can sting. Sarcasm and snark might not be intended, but found. Gawd knows my idol Kurt Sutter gets a steady dose of this from his tweets! But, it's the way we all communicate these days, short of havin' vision phone, and I'm not goin' there any time soon!
So, from the text I sent came a torrent of harsh emails, voice mails, and facebook messages that flew fast and furious (or at least furious!) between the two of us. His tone of email/text came off as hurtful. Despite that, clued him in on the fact that one of the trainees had taken over his desk during his days off so he wouldn't be shocked/surprised on return to work. That induced more snark from him.
It's not like I demanded he genuflect and kiss my ass for havin' his back, just a thanks for the support and/or sharin' the news would've been nice. So he flung verbal pooh and I flung it back. The hurts continued to fester. He called the sincerity of my care and concern for him and the problems on his plate into question; called me oversensitive and said that I needed to get a grip. He also called my voice mail message - in which I was cryin' out in pain to him - as melodramtic and how it had embarrased him because other people overheard the call and told him about it.
The impression came off that in comparision to his emotional load (and he IS carryin' a pretty big burden), my emotional load matters little to him. An emotional load is an emotional load, and when one is at one's low point, one tends to reach out for whatever anchor/life perserver is available. Sometimes ya reach for such and it's just outta reach - or worse - gets pulled away from ya.
The unkind thought came to mind that his lashin' out was unjust return for all he'd been given freely and gladly. Furthermore, the thought came to mind that the one time his support and time was requested it was turned down and was meekly accepted. Yeah, you could say that the cat flexed her claws a mite.
After the last harsh FB message from him, I sent up a white flag of sorts and said I can't keep doin' this, it'd be nice if we could talk like adults instead of fightin' via the interwebz. Unfortunately the cat got a little dig in at the end. When HLB posted that he was home safe, I sent a text to say 'Hey, glad you're home. Despite harsh words, still love you.'
Can only imagine the reception I'm gonna get tomorrow from him. He's gonna be doin' the work assignments tomorrow, which was what I was doin' today while fieldin' the interwebz fight. Cold shoulder? Anger? Snarkcasm? Total indifference? It's hard to tell.
Right now, I'm emotionally, spritually, and maybe even psychologically fragile. I'm tired of bein' the support beam when there's nothin' under me. I'm tired of havin' to work like a dog because we're short two people on our shift and expected to produce the same numbers as when we're up to full capacity. Not knowin' whether my missin' furbabies are alive or dead is pure torture to me. Bein' at odds with the husband was just as difficult.
In fact, there was a moment this week when I feared losin' my marriage, my health, and my sanity. Well, at least one of those is back on an even keel now. With the anemia and my depression at a new all - time low, the other two are questionable at best.
Yes, I'm takin' my depression and PTSS meds. I don't dare NOT take 'em. I cry a lot right now because Life actually literally HURTS. It'd be nice to crawl into bed, pull the covers up over my head, and never come out from under. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way.
Fortunately, teh interwebz makes reachin' out to friends possible. A good friend across the pond took time out of her work day to let me cry on her virtual shoulder. She helped me clear the trees so I could see the forest. I've never met this woman, but love her much as my heart sister. She's a wonderful lady, and I'm proud that she's accepted me as a trusted friend.
So, tonight, I'm gonna have one Hell of a good cry in the shower, take my PTSS meds, and go to bed. I'll go try to reason with me da, play another round of phone tag with the doctor's office, spend time with my remainin' kitties, try to write on chapter 15 (which has taken a back seat to the needs of the many), and then go into work and try to endure whatever comes my way.
I only hope that my HLB and I haven't completely lost the friendship. Sometims the people who are closest to you can hurt you the most - whether they be husband, wife, friend, brother, sister, father, mother, or lover. They can do the most hurt because we expect so much from them.
Forgivin' is easy. Forgettin' the hurt takes time - for all of us.
And that's why I say fuck makin' lemonade outta lemons. Sometimes when ya step in a big pile of manure, you just wanna leap in a stream to wash off the stink. This is one of those times.
Thanks for lettin' me vent, my friends.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Marital Discord Sucks

The DH is the pup, yours truly is the feisty feline. I'm sure taht Robert feels this way as we enter our third day emotional distance.
I was pretty hard on him in my last blog. I'm still disappointed and hurt by his actions and words Sautrday and Sunday. He's said nothing to me since asking the question about going to the grocery Sunday morning.
Earlier Monday, I tweeted that the outside weather in Indiana was warm and sunny. In our house it was cold, frosty, and chilly. Hell, the atmosphere around here these days is so cold it would make Anartica feel like the Hawaiian islands!
We've had our tiffs, disagreements, etc., during our 17 years of marriage. Never like this. Somehow we've always managed to find our way back to each other after a few hours. This time seems different.
Does he perhaps blame me for the carelessness that robbed us of the two furry boys nearly a week ago? He can't blame me any more than I blame myself for that moment of carelessness!
One thing all y'all need to know about my husband, is that he is a Korean American version of Mr. Spock. He doesn't emote much. Oh, he'll laugh at times. He gets annoyed. He can be authoritative when it's needed. But he doesn't argue, doesn't raise his voice in anger. He'll just take a verbal harangue without any kind of response.
It infuriates the Hell out of me. The Native American, Irish, and Scottish blood in me craves a good fight from time to time. You know the kind, a good old knock - down, drag out, no holds barred verbal duke 'em out. Loud and racous. Get it out in the open kind of thing. Rant, rave, vent, Vesuvius, bare knuckles verbal interaction. Not easy to get with a quiet, unresponsive participant who just looks at ya until you lose the good head of steam you built up.
Most of the marital discord, when it happens, is because of pent up stresses and/or unexpected nasty surprises of the financial nature. Things get said in the heat of the moment (by me), things are left unsaid (Robert), tears are shed (me), then forgiveness begged for (me) and granted (him). Things are OK until the next storm.
Sunday night, when I got home from work, dishes were in the washer, clothes washed/dried/folded. No supper ready, but wasn't up to eatin' at the time. Nothin' was said by me, nothing said by him. He went to bed without either of us sayin' a word. I made his sandwiches for the day, tried to work on my fanfic, couldn't see it through the tears and gave up.
No call came from him today on his lunch hour. No call when he got home from work. I didn't call him, either. Came home to silence. Dinner ready, but silence. I didn't say anything to him, nor vice versa. We spoke to the cats (fortunately not the 'tell your mother/father' bull shit some parents do), but not to each other. We sat on the sofa but still not a word was said. He went to bed without sayin' good night.
I went to the bathroom and cried so hard my nose bled. (oops, spew alert?). I'm so tired and lost that I fell asleep twice on the way home from work tonight, fortunately didn't sideswipe anyone or anything, and immediately startled self awake. When I got safely parked in the driveway, I fell asleep for about five minutes before going into the house.
I did try to reach out via email from work. Just said that the cold shoulder was going to continue until he realized just how much he hurt my heart. All I wanted from him was a word. Not a full blown apology. Just a word.
I can't be the one to reach out this time. Maybe it's pride, and we all know that pride goeth before a fall. I just don't have the strength to make the gesture. But, if I wait for the gesture to come from him, it might be as nasty as the high flyin' bird he got from me.
Losing the two kitty boys is hard enough, and hurts a lot. Losin' my husband like this is tearing me up. Why can't he see that?
Off to sleep, if sleep is possible. Don't know if this is gonna do more harm than good. Sometimes I communicate better by writin' than in talkin'.
I just wish I could curl up in a miserable ball and hide from the world. Anyone know of an underground grotto with a lake I can hole up in for the rest of my life?

Sunday, March 18, 2012

I'm Really Hurtin' Today

Yeah, I know. It's been a few days/weeks since my last blog. Not that I haven't been tempted, but lots of things goin' on in life.
Today, instead of rantin' and ravin' about the things in life, the universe, and everythin' that has me hissed off, I'm comin' to the interwebz for a different reason.
Those of you who follow me on the Twitter and Facebook already know, or you may have guessed by the sad kitty picture. I'm doubly distressed by an apparent betrayal by my own husband. More on that in a moment.
The state of Indiana has been enjoyin' a warm spell of weather for March. Temps in the 70s and 80s, sunshine, breezes (OK, a few strong storms and the infamous Southern Indiana tornado that took out Henryville. BTW, if you're readin' this, and wanna help the victims - both two and four footed - be sure to donate to the American Red Cross, the Salvation Army, and the Animal Rescue site!).
Wednesday is the regular trash day in ouro neighboehood, and since the DH (and today, yes, it stands for DAMN Husband) was at work, I decided to use the garage door to return the trash can there, instead of leavin' it on the porch as we do in the winter, to be brought into the garage through the front door and then the house garage door.
Well, dumb me used the garage door opener remote in the car to lower the damn thing, and I watched it go all the way down. Honestly thought it did. It was on the ground and I pulled away from the house to get to the job. Little did I know that somethin' caught the damn door and it went back up a quarter of the way. The DH discovered this on his return to the house that night, just a bit before I got home.
Nothin' was taken from the garage, but two of our kitties got out. Hell, maybe all of 'em took the opportunity to get outside. I can imagine 'em eatin' grass, rollin' in the dirt, sniffin' the sproutin' daffodils and other flora in the yard, then returnin' to the safety of the house again.
Except for two of 'em.
They haven't returned since Wednesday. They've gotten out before and always come home. Hell, one night, I came home to find one of 'em clawin' at the stuff I put against the doorjamb to keep the cold from gettin' in! He wanted back in that badly.
I've called, shook the treat can, beat their food bowls with a spoon, but so far, nothin'. Yesterday, I went to our local pound, aka Animal Care and Control. That broke my heart for more reasons than one. First, all the missin' kitties were beggin' me to take them home (would if I could, but while I'm a crazy cat purrson, I'm not THAT bad yet)! Unfortunately, neither of my missin' boys were there. At least they're registered with 'em. One of 'em has a microchip, but the information on it is outdated. I lost the info as to where it can be updated.
I went into major grief mode then. ACC seemed like the last hope. Except for canvassin' the neighborhood with a their pictures and hopin' someone had seen them or taken them in. I printed up a mini - poster with their pic on it, and several letters to stick in doors.
Here's where the betrayal comes into play. I'm off work today, a rare Sunday off. So is the DAMN Husband. The idea was to split the subdivision in two - just our immediate one, maybe 100 houses if that. We take the pics around, ask if they'd been seen, leave the letter in the doors where there was no answer. Get the word out.
It made sense. Not use the cars to go from place to place. Less wear and tear on them, more cost effective (gas is nearly $4 a gallon here). Good way to meet the neighbors, too. Plus, my knees are 80+ years old, though the rest of me is 49ish. Walkin' long distances creates a great deal of pain. So, this seemed like a reasonable plan.
When DH came home Saturday night, I made the request.
"I'm not going around the neighborhood!" he whined.
The grief came afresh. It would've been understandable if he'd mentioned bein' concerned about potential dangers of goin' door to door or had any other objection. His response hurt my heart. He didn't seem to care about that.
The silence between us was loud the rest of the night.
This mornin', I decided to go ahead with the canvassin' idea without him. We didn't speak to each other at all until he asked if 'we' were goin' to the grocery.
Since I'd done that Saturday (if he'd bothered to look in the frackin' fridge!) and comin' when / how it did, the question wasn't dignified with an answer. I grabbed the mini poster and the letters and left the house.
It was difficult to talk to the neighbors about our missin' pets. They were sympathetic, and said they'd keep an eye out, but it seems like the two have vanished from the face of the earth. By the time I'd talked to the third neighbor (about five or six houses), I knew that doin' this wasn't going to work, it was takin' far too much outta me emotionally.
Now comes the massive betrayal by the DAMN Husband. I heard the unmistakble whine of his car engine. (One of the reasons it annoys me, plus it's not Mopar, which is another annoyance and it doesn't like me and vice versa). My first thought was that he might've been comin' to join me, and give me a place to rest when my knees hurt. That soon turned out to be a very false hope, as he backed that POS Hyundai from the driveway and DROVE OFF IN THE OTHER DIRECTION from where I was standin'!
The cell phone never rang to tell me where he was goin' or to ask if I was gonna be OK. He just stole off like a sneak theif in the night. I know exactly where he's goin', to have a pastry and a cinnamon dolce latte. That's more important to him than askin' the neighbors if they've seen our furbabies.
That, to me, was the last betrayal. If he'd bothered to look in his rear view mirror, he'd have seen my reaction to his cowardly retreat. Digital communications can speak volumes when words fail one. Yes, he got the bird. High flyin'.
After coverin' every house on our street, I couldn't do it anymore. That's about fifteen houses. I broke down into tears and came back to the other kitties and the quiet house to vent my frustration and pain in this blog.
Maybe it's not kosher to take one's marital discord to the interweba. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. It hurts, and the DH's behavior has made that hurt worse.
In a couple of hours, I'm goin' in to work to help my team mates because there will only be two there due to us bein' short staffed. It'll get me away from the DH for a few hours, and from this feelin' of greif, frustration, betrayal, and disappointment I'm feelin' right now. If I'm' gonna be miserable, at least it's better to be miserable and be paid for it.
After that, I don't know what I'll do. The idea of not comin' home until very late is enticin'. Thing is, where to go at 11pm Sunday night?
What scares me the most is that the boys might be dead. The damn geese around here are pretty frackin' mean. There could've been a tangle with a stray dog. They could've been run over somewhere other than our main streets.
Or, perhaps they are still alive, and have taken shelter with a new family. I can only hope that might be the case. Either way, I'm in major grief mode, and it's worse that my own spouse can't or won't see the pain I'm in.