Friday, November 18, 2005

Today I started my new job as SJ's buyer's specialist. Same job as before with the psycho bitch from hell (on crack), but totally different. For starters, this agent is actually successful and can afford me. Then of course there's the fact that she has her proverbial shit together. What a relief. Today was really pleasant. The office culture is really smooth and cool. If only I were getting paid.

Tomorrow night R and I have a jewelry party at DR's house. About thirty women are coming. Plus, DR decided to make it a wine tasting/jewelry party so I hope everyone gets extremely sloshed and starts buying up a storm. As soon as our inventory hits 5k on the table we can start doing parties on our own and making some cash. If we just did two parties a week, which is more than totally possible, and if we only sold $1,000 worth of jewelry at each party, which is way do-able, then she'll make enough to put Mr. Baby through college and to have create a reserve and I'll have enough to live on while I get some escrows under my belt.

So pray to the Gods and Goddesses of Making It Happen that all goes well. I am at that wonderful stage where I see the lifeline, and I'm grasping for it, and now I've got ever so slight a hold on it. If I can just hold on until I get pulled safely to shore...

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:02 PM
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Wednesday, November 16, 2005

What a complete waste of a day. I got up early this morning so I could run to the school district office and pick up a copy of my high school transcripts. It was a nightmare. Good thing I'd brought my passport with me. Otherwise they might not have given me the precious papers officially documenting my high school experience. High school? Are you shitting me? What the fuck does that matter for anything? It matters to no one. It means nothing.

The only reason I went to get them was that this job at a hospital requested them. So I got them. It was like pulling teeth. I don't know why I bothered. I'm not getting the job. It's just part of the dance. They also asked for a copy of my last performance review from Femoral. I tried to get that, but because of the union, it's virtually impossible. First I have to go to the file room and fill out a request form. Then I wait up to three weeks for them to process it. After it's been processed I can request an appointment with the director of Human Resources, which can take up to three months because it's not a priority. Once I get the appointment, I go in and we sit together and review my file. I explained that I didn't want to review the file, I just needed a copy of the last performance review. The idiot I was talking with just said "Rules are rules." I hung up on her.

I've been offered a job as a buyer's specialist with another team. I'd really like to take that job, but if I do, how will I pay the rent? Questions, questions, questions.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:30 PM
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Monday, November 14, 2005

I'm off to another job interview. Joy. More lies and smiles. More lies and apologies.

I've been feeling kind of dizzy lateley. Not dizzy, really. More slightly light-headed. Plus, I have this strange pain in my right side that fades in and out. Ben's too busy to bother. He's got Caitlin locked in the tower and when he's not home, Mr. Steve is on Caitlin watch. How horrid.

I tried to go to the urgent care twice to get checked out after the car accident. The first time I waited over 4 hours to be seen, but people kept bringing in their sick kids so I kept getting pushed to the back. The second time I waited almost 6 hours, but again all the sick kids kept coming in ahead of me. Forget it. I can't sue the dumb bitch that hit us because I can't get a doctor's report. Now I'll have to go to the ED. Maybe I'll do that Wednesday night. I have a nother job interview tomorrow and then another one on Wednesday.

I kind of hate my life right now.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:38 PM
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Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Today I stopped by the hospital to drop off some brochures for the jewelry. It was strange being there again. It's all the same. It seemed like yesterday I was there. Everything looks the same. The people are all the same. Nothing ever changes there.

I went in through the ED and I walked right past everyone like I still worked there. The ED smelled the same. It sounded the same. There were crying kids and screaming women and moaning men. Same as always. I went into Trauma 4 to find the charge. She was in there with an invalid with advanced DU. Have you ever smelled necrotic tissue? It's kind of disgusting. Decubitis ulcers used to be called bed sores. It's where these pressure points become so continuous and acute they prevent the tissue from being fed. The pressure creates a kind of tunnel to the bone. On the outside it can look like a nasty open sore, but all the way to the bone it gets bigger and the pressure and infection eats at the bone. Once it gets to that point there's little that can be done. It all has to go and then all you get is sometimes some lipid padding and a graft. It's really one of the most disgusting preventable things ever. Besides gangrene.

I don't miss the hospital. I don't know if I want to go back to working in a hospital. I don't know what the fuck I want. I want to make some money and I want to be able to write. That's basically it. I want to write everything. I feel suddenly like I have so much to say. Whether anyone wants to hear it or not, I feel like I have to say it.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:48 PM
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Thursday, November 03, 2005

There are motherfuckers and then there are motherfuckers. I hate them all, regardless. You know who you are. The motherfucker that blames everyone else for his shit. The motherfucker who won't work it out. The motherfucker who just sits on his ass complaining about every fucking thing without offering any effort or solution for change. I'm just so fucking sick of you all.

I'm sick and tired of standing behind your big fat ass at the grocery store, the DMV, the doctor's office, the post office, everywhere else. I'm sick of you not having your shit together and not knowing what the fuck to do about it. I'm sick of hearing you talk non fucking stop on your goddamned cell phone to no one about nothing. I'm sick of watching you let your fat dirty kids run around like wild animals screaming, breaking things, and beating on each other. I'm sick of having to listen to you yell at your kids. I'm sick of having to smell you. I'm sick of having to listen to the wheeze and whine you make as you try to lift your fat ass out of the seat you've miraculously squeezed it into. I'm so fucking sick of all of you.

I hate you stupid motherfuckers who drink yourselves into stupors because you can't find any other creative or stimulating way to entertain yourself. I hate you stupid motherfuckers who let your boyfriends beat on you and your kids. I hate you stupid motherfuckers who let other stupid motherfuckers get away with such shit. Quite honestly, I hate all of you all the time forever. I hope that sums it up.

Today I had to go back to work after going to the funeral of my friend. I was very hungover, but I took my secret little recipes and got over it. I went to work and had to deal almost all fucking day with this stupid fucking bitch who refuses to pay a $3,800 bill. I know that's a lot of money. I know nobody would like to pay that kind of bill unless it's for a house or something better. I know. But part of the reason this stupid bitch's bill is so big, which in the healthcare field sadly it's really not, is that she let her self-pay insurance lapse and then decided to bring her son in for a fall off a trampoline. I know kids are unpredictable. It's their nature to be so. But it's her fucking job as a parent to make sure her kid has insurance, or to leave him locked in a padded cell so he can't rack up any charges. I've been contacting this dumb bitch about this for over six months. We could have worked out a payment plan, or gotten the kid on some retroactive state or county sponsored plan, or something. There's a lot of shit I can do for people if they'll just fucking work with me. She never responds to me so I sent her a final notice via certified mail that I was not sending her to collections, but was taking her to court for the fees. Apparently that got her attention. She called me all day screaming and bitching, which I don't stand for. I don't put up with that kind of bullshit. If you have something to say to me you better get control of yourself first. If you call me screaming and bitching, I'm just gonna tell you to call back when you can talk and hang up on your ass. So after a while of that, she finally got control of herself and called me and told me that her son had died as a result of that accident and that she didn't have any money after having to bury him. My heart sank and I told her I was deeply sorry and that I would review her file with the director and call her back.

I went to lunch. I called my friend Carey to make sure she hadn't killed herself since I'd seen her the night before. I told her what happened and she said she thought the bitch was making it up because that's happened to us before and also she doesn't believe anything anyone says anymore. Because of the whole real estate thing. So after lunch I go to the director and I talk to him and we review the file and there's no death certificate. Clearly the patient was discharged with no significant findings and sent home with female parent. What a fucking lying ass bitch. I ran another credit check on her and she's got tons of assets. I don't know what her fucking problem is, but I'm gonna fuck that bitch up. I'm filing every action I can against her and I'm putting liens on her cars, her house, her accounts, anything I can find. I'm not cutting that bitch one fucking break. I want her begging on her naked knees.

Because I hate motherfuckers, that's why. I hate you all.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:31 PM
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