Thank God, almighty...
...free at last

I'm officially one of those people that others use as an example of couldn't-take-it-anymore methods for quitting. You now have the anecdote to share of the girl you know who quit her job by coming in to work on a Monday at her regular time, emptying her desk, leaving (propped on her keyboard) the letters of resignation and four-page letters of grievance for her two bosses, and putting a sticky note up on her monitor that read, "I QUIT."

The worst part is that the four-page letter of grievance (personalized for each boss) was just the stuff that I found professionally offensive.

The best part is that I didn't bother reprinting the letter I intended to provide them with on Friday, leaving the original date on the letter, merely crossing out and initialling the line in which I gave them up to another four weeks to find a replacement.

Now, on to the bigger fish I've yet to fry.

Time to strategize

I'm fed up with my job. I'm tired of having to explain to my bosses (there are two of them) why I'm taking medical appointments, as if they have any right to know; employee confidentiality doesn't exist there; I'm tired of the lack of organization; I hate that my boss spends half her days trying to locate files; I'm sick of her favouritism; I hate that there isn't established procedure for new hires; I hate that there isn't so much as a docket system; I'm tired of the shoddy treatment of overtime-workers (who shouldn't even exist, according to the employee contract); I hate having to worry about when I'm going to be able to escape to get myself a suitable meal; I hate that management occasionally springs for pizza, which I can't eat; I hate that I have to be extra careful on my way home, late at night from downtown Toronto; I'm tired of having to keep quiet so as not to offend my co-workers (who ought to be on "the same side", not against one another); I'm tired of broken promises.

My probation was to have ended almost two months ago, my managers opted to extend it for another 3 months, with monthly "check-ups". Today was to be the first of my successive reviews, and I was going to resign. Silly me, I should've known that they wouldn't be able to effectively schedule that in. An hour before my review, I got notice that it's rescheduled for Wednesday of next week. I spent the remainder of the day debating handing in my notice (and four-page letter of grievance) any way.

Now that I've made it through the day, I'm debating making demands, should they wish to keep me. Might as well, I figure.

Maybe I'll just do what others do in my situation: keep collecting a steady paycheque until I find another job and can tell them where to go. In all honesty, 'though, I don't think I have the patience for it at this point.

I guess the good news is that I'm finding my voice again, and actively working at improving my life.

Digging in the dirt

After allowing a backlog of "emotional support" emails to build up over the course of the past 2-1/2 weeks, I finally got around to responding to them all. I can't say I was terribly coherent in all of them. I can't say I've been coherent at all, since late January.

I'm currently in the process of reconnecting myself back to my life. It's been hard, it's been imprecise, it's been exhausting, but I'm hoping that it'll put me back in touch with who I want to be. I hate that I've strayed so far, and apologize to anybody I've trampled upon as a result.

Tomorrow is the start of some positive changes I'm going to be making. Stay tuned.

The ultimely demise of Frank

I woke up this morning with a stomach-ache most foul, and was unable to rule out the possibility that it was due to the latest adventure with my sourdough culture (a super-yummy repeat of the cinnamon rolls I made previously). I chose to say farewell to the "pet" I've been cultivating since early-May.

Fear not, 'though, old chums, methinks a Frank II will soon be in the works. I've just got too many culinary experiments to attempt before I can say I've mastered sourdough.

If you like Pina Colada...

"A Bosnian couple are getting divorced after discovering they were both having an online affair - with each other.

The couple met on an online chat forum while he was at work and she in an internet cafe, and started chatting under the names Sweetie and Prince of Joy. They eventually decided to meet up - but there was no happy ending when they realised what had happened.

Now they are both filing for divorce - with each accusing the other of being unfaithful.

Sana said: “I thought I had found the love of my life. The way this Prince of Joy spoke to me, the things he wrote, the tenderness in every expression was something I had never had in my marriage. It was amazing, we seemed to be stuck in the same kind of miserable marriages - and how right that turned out to be. We arranged to meet outside a shop and both of us would be carrying a single rose so we would know the other. When I saw my husband there with the rose and it dawned on me what had happened I was shattered. I felt so betrayed. I was so angry.”

Adnan said: “I was so happy to have found a woman who finally understood me. Then it turned out that I hadn’t found anyone new at all. To be honest I still find it hard to believe that the person, Sweetie, who wrote such wonderful things to me on the internet, is actually the same woman I married and who has not said a nice word to me for years."

Via the new shelton wet/dry

Hang up the phone, play me this song

Modest Mouse - Float On

It's that dream where I'm witnessing the tornado touch down...

Some days, it's all I can do to string together two words that are a)coherent and b)don't sound hard and cold. I think back on how I used to behave, socially, and long for that easy, mildy-tactless charm again. I've become withdrawn. It can be an effort to talk to the people I'm closest to. Some of the time, I don't bother. I think it's time I started making an effort to explain:

Medically
As I've been hinting for a while, I've been undergoing medical testing for much of this year. For the past several weeks (after receiving a third opinion), I've debated sharing this information with the general public via my blog, and decided that awareness can only help. While the results aren't all in yet — I'm to be tested for adult-onset Diabetes shortly — I likely have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. In a nutshell, my hormones are behaving oddly, and this might lead to complications with fertility. For those of you who know me well, you'll not be surprised to learn that it's been quite a blow to be informed that bearing children might be difficult for me.

For the men in the audience, the lady-parts testing that comes with having a fertility-related medical issue is fun like drinking a bucket of hot coals.

Rather than attempt hormone-therapy, I've opted to try (more) to lose weight, as this has been known to rectify the issue for some people. Apparently, the reason I haven't been losing weight is because my diet has been too carbohydrate-heavy for my condition. Since adjusting my meals to include more protein, fruits and vegetables, I think I've noticed a difference. The irony is, of course, that I'm effectively down to two food groups now.

Matrimonially
Matt has been working very hard to be understanding. In terms of emotional support, he (as I suspect most Y-chromosomed individuals would) has fallen short with unfortunate frequency, on this and previous issues I've had to deal with this year. The fact that we're newlyweds — that I feel I'm "supposed" to be experiencing one of the most blissful periods of my existence — makes my feelings regarding my marriage rather dismal. I want to make it clear that I'm not bashing Matt here, I'm just airing my feelings about how this segment of my life has been causing me stress. We've both been putting a lot of work into our relationship to try to make it through this, but I admit that I'm not much feeling up to having to work on this too.

Professionally
All of the medical testing I've undergone means that I've taken an unusually high number of days off work, since starting at the beginning of May. Unfortunately, none of the time I've taken off has been for anything remotely relaxing (excepting the past two days, which were overtime hours I've been trying to collect on for the past month, at least). Frankly, I could write reams about why I don't think I'll be staying on at Scholastic, but I'll spare you the details and me the aggravation (for this post, any way).

Basically, I feel that my managers are doing a poor job of understanding that the job itself can be quite stressful, and to have that stress while my marriage and medical health are also causing me anxiety is not welcome. They've also effectively given me shit for taking so much time off ('cause it's been such a party, all my "vacation" time).

Socially
As mentioned above, I've been feeling increasingly withdrawn, and have been questioning why I'm becoming so. I think I probably need the time to readjust to the circumstances I feel I've been slammed with, and I'm trying to keep myself from withdrawing to the point where I lose contact with the people who matter to me. I know that a lot of you are there for me to talk to, if I need it, but I don't think I'm ready for that just yet.

Thank you, 'though, for mostly being a bright spot as life is going for me lately. I'll do my best not to alienate you in an emotionally-exhausted upheaval of everything I still have left.