Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

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

Friday, June 01, 2012

Gettin' Kicked While You're Down Part Deux

As my good friend Kurt Sutter knows - as do most of you readers of this sporadic epistle  - I have a sayin' that was borrowed from the 'Peanuts' comic characters decades ago:  "I love Mankind, it's people I can't stand!"

This day has been like that.  Hell, the month of 'meh' has been one long, drawn - out SNAFU.  Eventually, somethin' was gonna happen to drive me over the brink.  Today it happened.     

Out of the great wide open, under the sky of grey, the department manager came to my desk today.  Not to find out how I'm handlin' things since Daddy's funeral, but to have a 'coaching session' with me.

(Que music of impendin' doom) Da - da - da - dum!

'Coaching' sessions are never good news, and I went into this one with some trepidation.  The alarm bells were goin' off louder when a second manager walked into the conference room as a 'witness'. 

The department manager stated he'd received a report that I've been disregardin' a written directive about visitin' other departments on the floor, and continued to do so when taken to task for said violation by other managers.   Additionally, the report claims that I don't keep my personal issues out of the office, but it only made reference to the March incident with a former friend.  

Somethin' immediately smelled rank about that report.  It wasn't specific as to the alledged violations.  On what dates did these occur?  Which managers had confronted me?   The report was lacking in that kind of detail.   Until that moment, NO manager had spoken to me about the matter. 

The only other incident of 'personal problems invadin' the workplace' was when Daddy died.  I got the news here at work.  Did I fall all over the place weepin', wailin', moanin' and gnashin' teeth while rippin' my garments?  Hell no!   I cried a bit, sure.  My own co - workers were aware, but not the entire floor. 

This situation made me extremely angry.  The department manager had a disciplinary action form in front of him that was full ofo vague innuendo.  Hell no did I intend to sign it!  I pointed out all the questionable aspects of the report.  Any manager knows damn good and well that if you're gonna discipline an employee, it needs to be for specific reasons, not vague accusations that have NEVER been previously addressed! 

The department manager agreed with me, and is going to request additional feedback from HR before continuin' with the form.   Should be interestin' to see what comes out of it next week.

Now, I have a sneakin' suspicion that a certain someone is behind this.  Our workplace has an anonymous reporting line for ethics violations.  That someone has used it before to report people who have earned that's person's ire for an alledged slight.  It doesn't surprise me that said individual would resort to the same tactic now that I'm on their 'shit' list. 

Now, I admit to havin' stopped and been cordial to former co - workers who now work in other departments, but not in such a manner that their work has been disrupted.  Usually it's just a quick 'hi' and that's it.  The whole purpose of the edict against interdepartmental visits is to cut down on the amount of excess noise in the workplace and customers' overhearin' stuff that they don't need to hear. 

One time, I stopped on the way out to speak with a former co - worker who happens to work in the same department as former friend.  I ignored that person.  No lookin' in that individual's direction or acknowledgin' the fact of the person's existence at all and left without a bye or leave to the former friend.    Maybe that's what earned the retaliation, refusin' to pay attention to 'em.

Course, I can't prove my suspicions.  In the long run, that's all I have - suspicions.  But the circumstancial evidence is clear enough for a blind person to see.  The fact that this individual has indulged in this kind of retaliation before is another red flag.  

And that is the reason for this blog, is to publicly go on record to that individual that I know what you're up to, and it's not gonna work out the way ya want!    You're a vindictive little POS with a condenscendin' attitude that makes Cassanova look like an altar boy.  You've shown your ass too many times to customers and co - workers.  

What you've done WILL come back on ya.  I don't have to retaliate.  Karma, like me, is a real bitch.   I'll rely on Karma to do her dance on ya.

And I hope she wears spike heels when she does it.  More pain that way.

In the meantime, it's rather ironic that this happened on the fourth week from Daddy's death.  How much pain is a person supposed to take, anyway?   I'm oversaturated as it is.

Nor did help that I had to argue with a certain mail order pharmacy CSR to try to get Daddy's 2009 - 2010 payment history released to give to the accountant.   That's been an on - goin' thing for the last six months, and the CSR was just as snide and condescendin' as the former friend can be.  I wound up demandin' a supervisor who got things done in five minutes!  

Though I won't believe it until the information arrives in the mail. 

So, next Thursday evening is the memorial service at Annual Conference.  I got my half day off, so I'll be able to go.  Then comes Father's Day.  

I'm dreadin' that day.

The schedule is out, and I have that weekend off.  Gonna run down to Daddy's to do more straightenin' up, sortin' and packin' things for sale and/or donation.  

Le sigh.

Thursday, May 31, 2012


Meh.  That best describes my feelin's about this past weekend.  Meh. Meh.  Meh.  The numbness inside remains intact.

Took this weekend to run down to Daddy's house to do some work on clearin' things up.  Found a lot of treasures that touched my heart and others that broke my heart, but nothin', absolutely NOTHIN' gave me the emotional grievin' release I've been lookin' for.  Not even payin' a visit to Daddy's grave did anything for me.  Except to get me bitten by skeeters or some kind of flyin'/bitin' insectoid.  Got a little exposure to the sun.  I talked to Daddy about half a hour.  Didn't get any responses back.   Shared my birth mother's latest antic with him.  Felt better for talkin' to him, but no release. 

The weird thing is that I have no difficulty feelin' anger over those situations that warrant it (see previous blog), but the anger only provides some temporary relief from the numbness.  A little adrenaline rush, a rise in blood pressure, but it's not very long lastin', and then the numbness sets in again.

Grief counselin' is still in the works.  The corporate chaplain did stop by my cubicle today and we talked a bit.  He said I'm not crazy, that all these jumbled feelin's are normal.  I told him about the memorial service at the United Methodist Annual Conference in downtown Indy next Thursday, the 7th, and of my intent to go, he agreed it was a good idea. 

It's just drivin' me nertz that I could cry when the two furbrothers took off two months ago - and that I could cry rivers when that so - called 'friend'/co worker treated me so abysmally the first time - yet I can't summon up the cleansin' cry over my own father!  No matter what people say, I still feel like an asshat for that.

Granted, there was 125 miles (dependin' on the route taken) between us, but the man was part of my life since birth!  One would think I'd be more emotional about it, for cripe's sake!!   God knows he saw more of me and the DH in the last few weeks of his life than he saw of us in the last three years. 

There's a danger for me to fall into a big pit of guilt for all the times I didn't go to see him, or wasn't as enthusiastic about his telephone calls, all the misunderstandings we had while I was growin' up.  For every negative memory, there are plenty of good things that we shared; a love for IU basketball and Cubs baseball, love of music and of the outdoors, love of writin' and of car repair, the love parents feel for their children and vice versa.

But Life is not a ledger, with pluses and minuses that balance out.  Sometimes the account is badly overdrawn, and sometimes it has a nice little nest egg to fall back on.  Sometimes one barely breaks even.  All I can do is try to remember that Life is what we make of it.  There's no do over in Life.  You can't go back and make all the bad shit better, you can only go forward.

Up to Tuesday night, the only writin' I'd been doin' was emails, thank you notes/cards, and correspondence pertainin' to Daddy's revocable trust.  For the first time since the night Daddy died, I returned to writin' my fan fic.  It was like sayin' "hi" to a long lost friend.  It felt good to create again. 

Speakin' of long lost friend, I reconnected with a good ridin' friend Tuesday, who goes by the name of Big Bird.  Ron and I hooked up at a charity ride last summer.  He's a good man, and a good friend.  We talked for a couple of hours at a bar called the Sugar Shack, not far from either of our homes over a couple of non alcoholic drinks.   I suspect we'll take a few rides before the summer is out. 

In other words, Life is movin' forward, despite the feelin' of numbness that continues inside me.  The corporate chaplain says I'm not nertz, that everythin' I'm feelin' is normal in this kind of situation.  I don't remember goin' through this kind of internal pain when my grandparents died - or when great grandma died.  But those were very many years ago.  This is different from those times.  This is different from havin' beloved furbabies cross the Rainbow Bridge.   This is sayin' goodbye to my Daddy. 

And I wish to Hell I could feel more than anger and Meh.  It doesn't help that Father's Day is comin' up very soon.  I've given up hopin' for a catalyst that will bring the healin' about.  Next Thursday, the 7th, is the Annual Conference's Memorial Service.  I'll be present on behalf of my (step) mother, birth mother, my brothers, and the rest of the family that can't attend.  I doubt that or Father's Day will bring me any closer than packin' his clothes for donation over the past weekend did. 

And so I continue to travel along the long and windin' road in the land of Meh.