Today I am thankful that I didn't bite it in traffic.
I think I have to stop taking Hampden to the I-225 interchange. This was the spot where I was struck by someone's wheel well which damaged by brakes, my suspension and caused $1,400 worth of damage a couple of weeks back.
That's one way to meet a bunch of guys....sadly.
Today, it was snowing. Some dolt was speeding up behind me, I tried to move over but wound up doing a donut in three lanes of traffic leading on to a highway!
I don't know how I didn't die nor do I know how my car didn't get a scratch and everyone else was untouched by the Hypnomobile.
Maybe I missed my calling -
perhaps I'd have a better career for myself as a stunt driver.
Well - maybe in a horror film.
My driving IS scary.
*****
My job is getting annoying. The boss lady is now getting other people recruited into mobbing me.
This started when I told her I'd be getting licensed as a counselor (she isn't). It began as slights during meetings.....they're not going to train me unless I agree to work an additional 20 hours a week as an intern (I'm an hourly employee).....then complaints about my curly hair.....demands I straighten it.....having people tell me that when I'm not around, she'll claim that my credentials are worthless (so I cc'd her on an email from the State Government to refute her claim...).
Oh, and I'm not allowed to take time off for new training courses mandated by the State of Colorado. so, I find myself going to school for seven hours before driving an hour to work and working my shift.
This IS insane. As far as I know, I am the only person being denied my ability to go to school and study coursework that will benefit the organization.
Now it is just getting weirder.
She tried to intimidate me in private. She told me "I never fit in anywhere"....she said other stuff, too. Weird, bizarro stuff.....like I scare people (who, what, where, how and why? maybe it's my hair, sometimes it takes on a life of it's own.)
Sigh.....
I'm sat in her office wanting to break out into a childhood rendition of
Nobody likes me.....
everybody hates me.....
think I'll eat some worms....
Fat ones....skinny ones....
big, round and juicy ones...
How cute! Someone actually recorded the song!!!
Hmm......the adult me is now wondering if that playground song was really about worms.
Perhaps it's describing women who become promiscuous due to the need for approval.
(((( shudder ))))
She's trying to dictate what I do off the clock (not allowed to go out in public or volunteer unless it is absolutely necessary.....again, we help addicts...if I volunteer to help homeless addicts, guess what resources I'm gonna learn that will help her in the long run?)
Now, I've been mobbed by colleagues saying my degrees are worthless because the boss said so at a meeting when I was not present....
Only to get a huge raise the next day.
Yesterday, I had a woman criticize me for thirty minutes (after I clocked out) because I (get this) Work Too Hard!!!!! She wants me to let her do my work so I can leave earlier.
She's not qualified to do that work.
The woman also complained that I won't tell patients about petty rules when they're telling me about their suicidal thoughts. Um....hello? The woman works on the night shift so it could be possible she wasn't quite awake.
These are brilliant folks. I'm just a little bit shocked at how far they're willing to go to get their jollies.
Part of me wants to stay and put up with the games just to see what prize I'm gonna get next.
Workplace bullying kinda seems like domestic violence. There's a build up before a disturbing event and then a huge gift given out of guilt.
Maybe I can get a diamond, a new car, my own book deal or even a severance if I stick around long enough.....
(just teasing...)
Or I could just go back into private practice at the office I still rent and see my own clients.
((( my life is soooo hard...lol )))
Few people are fortunate enough to have all the options I have. I should just walk away.
It just sucks that I care for my patients so much that I'll tolerate abuse before I abandon them. I'd rather be the target than them. Addiction tears its victims down so much a jack-nut therapist really doesn't need to tear them down further before building them up. Heaven help these militant clinics if I ever win a seat in the house.
In the past, patients were the targets. Better me than them.
Sadly, this bullying situation is actually starting to wear me down.
I used to have a workplace bully website and blog but I took it down because I posted a lot of emails I got from someone's governmental workplace bully. The city attorney asked me to take it down.
I did.
I may have to put that website back online.
The older I get, the funnier this shit becomes.
It's annoying....but funny.
*****
There has been this absolutely huge box on my living room floor for four days.
I know there is a guitar in it.
There is also a box with several pick guards (couldn't decide), hummingbird decals, picks and strings that came in the mail, too.
I've never opened them.
At this point, I'm realizing that my job is making me depressed.
Usually, when presented with anything even remotely musical, I feel like a kid at Christmas and the box is torn to tiny shreds as I play with my new toy.
To steal a lyric from Duran Duran....
"I like noise."
I correlate noise with fun
(probably why the last guy had to go.....yeah, he expected me to be super quiet....all....the....time....)
This one.....
is still in it's box.
I have decided I'll name it Tom.
I'm going to sit with this.
Seriously - this has never happened. I even get excited with they hand out kazoos at birthday parties.
I didn't think it was even remotely possible that I'd let a guitar sit in a box in my living room without touching it.
Maybe I should make this a game.....
I wonder how long I'll last without tearing open the box or bringing a new one home.
I bought the Fender Precision during Covid, too. That was the first guitar I ever bought online. Everything has always come home with me out of a box. I buy it, put it in a case and take it home.
It's weird getting a guitar in a box.
Musical instruments are like pets I adopt. We don't buy them in boxes. We find one we like, take it and give it a home.
Maybe this is the problem. Maybe I'm afraid the Ibanez is gonna suck like the Recording King.
Or maybe I'm depressed.
To be honest about it, I'm literally shocked that the young artists living here having taken it and hid it from me yet.
Strange.....
Maybe I'll open it tomorrow. It'll make it a Valentine's Day to remember.
Yeah - Feb. 14th is the worst day on the planet.
Maybe I'll find another old spinster and take her out to dinner.
Are restaurants open?
I wonder.....
If not, we can make slushies or somethin'.
It's still snowing.
Whatever you decide to do,
may you have a happy VD day, too.
S.
Next day edit: So I opened the box after I took an older single woman out to dinner.
He was almost perfectly tuned and he sounds pretty darn good.
Tom's a handsome guitar.
I'll probably stay up until 6:00 a.m. singing sonnets about fake, insecure weirdos in positions of power.
Maybe not - my dog doesn't know how to howl so he'd probably just start crying. My singing sucks but he actually cries when I play classical music. He looks at me like I'm nuts when I play my bass without an amp. My miniature poodle basengi mix likes Reggae. Maybe I should learn some tunes.
I wonder what his puppyhood was like? He can't howl. We've had him about eighteen months and he's just learned to bark.
Dogs are too good for the human race. It's hard to imagine how asshats can hurt dogs.
As long as I live and breathe, he'll never have to live in a cage without socialization ever again.
Hugs,
S.