Perspective

Ah, one week into unemployment and I'm coming off of the roller coaster o' emotion. Y'all have seen how I've struggled with this transition, but I'm beginning to see the silver lining so to speak.

1) I now have a potential social circle with my former colleagues. It wouldn't have been easy to be friends with those whom I supervised, but now we have lunch scheduled for Friday. This is a very good development.

2) On another website about 43 things people want to do in their lifetime, I now have the opportunity to actually accomplish some of these things I listed. For instance, I'm writing.

3) I don't have Mother's guilt for leaving Edgar every day in the blue bathroom. He's a much happier dog.

4) I'm working on a healthier lifestyle with my physical therapy and cooking good meals.

5) I'm taking care of things that we all should but never have the time like doing a house inventory for insurance purposes.

6) I'm a much happier person for my husband to come home to every night/day (depending upon his call schedule) and I can be a better stress absorber for him.

7) I'm not too drained to attend social events after being extroverted all day long. We actually went to the graduation and the interns karaoke party in one weekend...this was unheard of before. J karaoked, I did not. The last time I did was my 22nd birthday in New Orleans and Prince's "Raspberry Beret" will never be the same.

8) Reflection, reflection, reflection

Honey, We're Not In Utah Anymore

One of the radio stations has a No-Refusal Request hour where literally, anything goes. One can hear anything from Menudo to Ratt. We like to call it the schizophrenic station. However, the other night coming home from getting some ice cream (how Utah is that?), we heard some lyrics that almost made us pull off the road.

"Let me ask you somethin.' What time of the day do you like to make love? Have you ever made love before breakfast? Have you ever made love while you watch the late late show? Well let me ask you this, have you ever made love on a couch..."

It was primetime on the radio. We were both laughing so hard we were crying. You too can catch the action. The song is called, "Strokin" (again, not kidding), and the artist is Clarence Carter.

Undefined and Un-nerved

Last night I went to a graduation party for the outgoing residents with my husband. It was strange to be in a room with people J has known for 3 years, began his intern year with, and know that we will probably never see them again. J has one more year of residency given his chosen track. It was also strange to be in a social situation where I was officially unemployed.

One of our friends came up to me and was dying to know what happened. Her best friend worked in one of the programs I supervised. Apparently there are several rumors and theories floating about my departure. This is to be expected, I suppose. What was difficult was trying to figure out what exactly I could say and what exactly I should say. I landed somewhere in the middle still not knowing exactly if I did the right thing.

Perhaps I was a bit sensitive to this as I received a very cowardly comment on my post regarding my resignation. One cannot say that they are anonymous while then pretending to be the two individuals I named. For all this person knows, I made up the names (as I frequently do) to protect everyone involved. I've changed them once again, BTW, just to keep everyone guessing.

Let me clarify: I do not wish these people badness. Its not productive nor does it bring about good karma. I believe that they acted to the best of their abilities, which in my opinion fell short of what was needed. I too acted to the best of my ability. Its a tough situation. In light of the comment received, it caused me to reflect and change the moderation on my comments section. Too bad, really, as my trust has dropped precipitously. I've been more angry at this one individual than I have with anyone during this whole ordeal. Its a bit of displacement, but I'm ok with that too. I do wish the individual who did write the comment to speak up for a real dialogue, but chances are, they won't.

I once had an ex-boyfriend do a low blow by opening up my moving boxes and reading all of my journals. He then re-taped the boxes and moved out while I was at work. When I came back to our apartment he announced he was abandoning me and told me about the trust violation. It has taken me many many years to figure out how to write once again from my heart with no codes alluding to situations fearing that the information could end up in the wrong hands. I write for me. This is my outlet, my emotional vomit, so to speak. One cowardly individual will not change that, but has caused me to redesign a few things.

I have a lot of feelings on now being undefined in the way that society expects you to be. My MIL was highly concerned about how I was doing, according to a conversation she had with my husband the other night. She asked if I was fired. J restated that I resigned. However, there is some sort of shame involved when people don't know the whole story and I have to find that balance of telling my truth without compromising my integrity or my potential future employment somewhere else. If I say too much, I am a risk to a future employer as I look like I lack discretion. However, if I say too little then I look like I was terminated/fired/let go/pushed out/discarded/etc.

A few weeks ago when this drama was unfolding, my father suggested that I lawyer up. Granted it was well past cocktail hour. And when I didn't agree, he went straight to the jugular stating I wasn't listening to his advice and that I was a washed up, has been, who was fired. I was smart enough to know that these were is own issues and told him to put Mom back on the phone. He was just being mean for the sake of being mean which isn't uncommon when he's swimming in a bottle. But he's my father and of course it hit a nerve because his opinion will always matter. At least I was smart enough to recognize the dynamics, not take the bait, and terminate that conversation. This is something I wouldn't have done even a few years ago. I do not have that kind of relationship with my MIL to say what I need to say, even though I really value her opinion of me as well.

I honestly feel like a burden at this point in time to my husband and I fear how that will manifest in our relationship. He has been nothing but supportive and I know this has taken a toll on him. The pressure of being a sole breadwinner for two people and a dog is huge. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like if we had kids. Part of me feels like I should be enjoying the break, but its hard to relax when you feel uninteresting as a human being. We devise so much of our self-identity from what we do. People talk about what they did at work at the end of a day. My days have become pretty uninteresting all because I lost identification by resigning a large part of who I thought I was.

Riding the Wave

So here I am on day 3 of being a temporary SAHW...certainly doesn't have the same appeal as a SAHM, as far as the acronym goes. I've kept myself busy by doing what housewives do, I suppose, by taking care of the house. Edgar incidentally is getting his haircut, so I'm a bit lonely today (which is so stupid, I realize.)

First, I've been trying to organize the chaos that comes with water damage. You see, we had to replace our water heater. After a nice flood and an expired warranty from 2001, it was time to bring in the Power Miser 9 a la Sears. My first call into the Sears call center was with an ESL lady by the name of Daisy. She was very polite and sweet, but finally I just had to tell her it was my fault and to please connect me with someone else. Here I am, the supposedly culturally sensitive social worker, and I couldn't understand what she was saying. After being on hold for another 10 minutes I just called back and explained to the next call center representative what had happened. He then told me that he knew who I was talking about and I was the third caller that night with the same problem. Ok, so now I felt terrible! Daisy was very sweet and called me back because we were disconnected and wanted to make sure I got everything taken care of. Yup, I felt lower than slime at that point. But, we did get our new water heater installed the next day.

The water heater was just one problem in the line of many. Our master bathroom toilet has been leaking as well. Getting out my Home Depot, DIY 1-2-3 book, J and I diagnosed it as a wax seal issue. This is something I knew I couldn't handle with a bad back nor did my husband have the time to fix it, so we called in more plumbers. They also fixed some broken stems on our master bathroom sink. Can't wait to see this bill. But see, now we have flooded carpets in two rooms.

J and I ventured to Home Depot to see about getting either a wet/dry vac or a heavy duty blower thingy for the carpet, especially since we live in mold/mildew central. When we talked to the rental guy he advised us it would be cheaper if we just bought our own blower vs. renting it. This completely overwhelmed J so as we sat in the patio furniture display I could see by his blank stare that we were not moving forward with a solution anytime soon. I called Mom to see what her recommendations were: hire a carpet cleaner. We did this months earlier, who by the way did nothing noticeable and I felt we were ripped off.

The other morning J disappeared into the back bedroom where the water heater resided in the closet with surgical material. I just kind of blew it off and went back to doing my own thing. I did ask what he was doing and he said he was suturing the carpet. This actually didn't seem odd to me. J practices his suturing on Edgar's torn up stuffed animals. However, why we have left over cat gut suture, hemostats, alligator needles, and other hospital things in our house is beyond me. I typically put all of the random medical supplies that travel home in his pockets into a drawer. We have quite the impressive assortment of tongue depressors, alcohol pads and gloves, just in case anyone was wondering. 30 minutes later he came out and got Edgar's leash. As the dog bounced around thinking he was going on a walk, I became more baffled.

"I fixed the problem." J announced proudly. "Now we have more circulation under the carpet to dry it out."

Well, all I can say is I wouldn't have thought of this on my own or in my DIY 1,2,3 book. While he sutured the carpet edge, he then attached the dog leash to the suturing and the closet rod. The photos speak for themselves.

Take This Job and Shove It

For the longest time, various men in my life (my husband included), have tried to convince me that "Office Space" is a really really good movie. I have never been able to sit through the whole thing as it creates such a visceral response in me. It touches a nerve that just resonates on that feeling of being trapped and really feeling like you haven't contributed anything in life. That to me, is ultimate failure. So around the part where characters being to ask if, umm, yeah, did you see the memo? I begin to feel my skin crawl.

For three weeks of May I was out on Vicodin, Skelaxin, spinal injections, and physical therapy. I don't do work when I'm on narcotics, so it yielded a lot of self-reflection. On Memorial Day weekend someone asked me if I was missing work and I inadvertently replied by unintentionally quoting a movie line from "Office Space." "I wouldn't say I was exactly missing work." J got a grin from ear to ear and knew the time was ripe for yet another go around of me watching the movie. Last weekend I finally sat through "Office Space" and actually enjoyed it.

The last week of May was a pivoting point. By Thursday I finally worked my way into my bosses schedules for a catch up meeting. One would have thought they would have prioritized me into their schedules, but whatever. My contempt for them could no longer hide and after a very convoluted conversation I finally said, "I can't do this anymore. I just don't think I'm a good fit." It seems like a very P.C. thing to say until I went on to tell them what exactly I dislike about my job, specifically their (lack of) leadership. I finally listed my strengths, what I thought I could contribute to the organization and said if they could find a fit for me we can move forward otherwise I think we should part ways. Man it felt empowering to say all of this out loud!

However, I dreaded coming back and telling my husband. He actually took it really well. His eye brow raised and his eyes looked really big for a second while I re-enacted the life changing line, but he then returned to normal and said, "Well, it seems like you committed political suicide, but then again you are a lot more successful than I am in the business realm, this is how you would react authentically, you hate this job, and life is too short for you to be unhappy." I couldn't believe how supportive this man is! Everything he did or said just reconfirmed exactly why we are together.

The following Tuesday I was scheduled for a meeting with my bosses and they offered to create another position for me that really didn't exist with a dock in pay, time limited to 4-6 months, and with the understanding that they would "spin this." Essentially, they were buying my silence. Oh, and they needed an answer RIGHT NOW. I told them I would get back to them tomorrow after speaking with my husband. After talking with another colleague in the field he pointed out that I was the organizational darling, all other existing leadership were being compared to me on a weekly basis (hence, why I really never was accepted as a peer), and if I just left it would point to an inadequacy on their part. Could I stay and keep my integrity? After waking up my post-call husband with the urgency that we needed to talk, we both came to the same conclusion: Not on your life.

I walked in the next day and told my coordinators team that I was resigning. A couple cried, most looked shocked. I explained the whole situation and why I had come to that conclusion. I then quickly typed up my letter of resignation and went down to administration. It was the calmest I had felt during my tenure. One boss wouldn't speak to me, the other was angry and in not so many words threatened me with a bad reference. They were betting on me taking the deal. I then met with the CEO to tell her exactly why I was leaving. She was just truly baffled even by my line that "it wasn't a good fit." She said that they took a big risk hiring me, I had a huge future there, and with all of the incredible work I was doing, she could only see it as a failure on their part. She wanted me to walk her through from the interview process to now as to what happened. I finally leveled with her that the only reason I was leaving was because of the "Dick and Jane Show," which is what all of the leadership call our bosses on admin. These two are a histrionic gay man in recovery and active alcoholic woman, co-dependent couple who are so unhealthy, its killing the organization. I cited specific examples where I had to clarify what their jobs were because they didn't know (literally), the waste of time our bi-weekly 6 hour meetings were, and how unsafe my peers felt because of their personal ethics. I always questioned what was being said behind my back. I acknowledged that I knew she believed in their efforts and I was smart enough to know when to move mountains and when to go around them. In the end, I chose to leave. She finally nodded and said she understood. She also said that I could count on her for a reference and to please give any employer her direct line.

The next day I spend all of my time informing my teams of the change. The reactions were varied, as expected. After all, a 60% approval rate in politics is unheard of and considered a HUGE success. I had a couple cry, one guy threw his pen and walked out after telling me I was the best thing that had happened and now I was leaving, and a few smiled. After telling people in the leadership team of my decision, I was literally dismissed by Dick. He also said that although 30 days is customary, it was not necessary and the sooner I was out the better. Oohkay.

I came back to my office to have my phone ringing off the hook as well as boxes mysteriously appearing on my floor. Colleagues from the community were calling me asking me what the hell happened. How did they know? Oh, Dick sent out an email that morning explaining I was no longer employed to the community, with the implication that I was fired. I was not cc'd. My trusted friend forwarded it to me and then promptly asked for my resume. I decided to ignore Dick's email and send out my own resignation letter with the official line of me deciding it was "not a good fit" and with grace wishing the organization the best. No way was I burning any potential bridges. However, war was declared between Dick and me.

I knew he was going to send out an email announcing my departure to the organization, but after what he did, I beat him to the punch. He was PISSED and sent me an email asking what the hell was I thinking, also cc'd to the CEO. I forwarded his original email sent to the community telling him I was disturbed and disappointed in his decision to go against our planned communication of telling staff before everyone else. I also said it implied I was fired but I thought I had done good work for them and while politically they didn't owe me anything, it would have been a nice personal and professional courtesy for us to have worded something together. I also cc'd the CEO. I haven't heard anything from him since. Uh huh, don't fuck with me, bitch.

My last day is tomorrow. In the meantime I've had one job interview (potential solid offer) for part time consulting, another phone call on a resume, and three requests from the community for my resume. I can't wait to get rid of this negative energy. I feel lighter, happier, and so much better. Harking back to the movie, while I did not take a fax machine out to a field and smash it with a baseball bat, I did feel extremely rewarded for throwing away my "I'm proud to be an employee" travel mug.

Things I Have Learned in the Past Three Weeks...

1) If you pass out in the doctors office you win a trip to the ER in an ambulance, but if you only have a near-fainting spell you win a heart monitor to wear for 2 weeks, an EKG, blood work, and a whole lot of stupid drama.

2) Listening to my husband sing "Walk this Way" with the wrong lyrics is hilarious. "Hey little little with your tittie in the needle..." I had to explain what the right lyrics were and what exactly it was alluding to sexually. His reply, "Thank God! A tittie in the needle just sounds painful!" He's been singing the song this way OUT LOUD since it came out and we were in junior high.

3) Despite the common knowledge that Scotties cannot swim because they are essentially a block with a mailbox for a head and will sink, Edgar has proved that he indeed CAN swim and loves to now venture to the lake. He still has not mastered retrieving the ball however as he sucks in water through his nose as he tries to bob for the ball wondering why he can't get it.
His exceptionally long tail serves as a rudder when wagging and can cause him to go off course.

4) There is a longer medical venture than the 4 years of residency of Med/Peds. My spine pain doc did an intern year in internal medicine, 3 years in anesthesiology, decided he really wanted to do critical care which earned him another 3 year fellowship and then settled into another fellowship of pain management. After learning he wasn't a quack, just highly confused as to what he wanted to be when he grew up, I felt much more confident about him doing a spinal nerve block scheduled for tomorrow.

5) Odd that my life lesson is to figure out how to do nothing and releasing control. Bed rest is my nemesis although I can safely say that I would prefer it to my job on several levels which is frightening as I've never really felt that way before. However, what I wouldn't give to be able to clean!

6) "Family home evening" takes on a new meaning when the excitement is your husband going through your MRI scans at home on the computer and exclaiming, "Honey, there's your poop!"
And, "Boy, you sure did have a full bladder when they did this scan!"

Get Scammed!

A couple of weeks ago my company announced it would be sending all of my peers to a motivational seminar. Apparently it was advertised in the newspaper and several of my staff commented that they were jealous as there were several speakers including Peyton Manning and Tony D-whatever-the-coach's-name-is. Honestly, outside of those two I only recognized a couple other names: Steve Forbes and Colin Powell. The seminar was being held at the RCA Dome, so that told me they were expecting a crowd. I figured it was one day away from the office and the worst thing that could come of it was a blog entry. I should have adjusted my expectations.

Getting downtown was a nightmare. They wouldn't let me in without giving them some of my personal information. "Door prizes," is what they said. I believe that this translated into spam email. I gave them my business card. The ticket said to arrive early to get your registration packet. It was a magazine with the owners on the cover touching the Superbowl trophy and it cost $20. 00. I passed it up thinking if there were gems of wisdom I'd write them on my leg. When I found my group, my administrative director handed me a copy of the magazine that she bought for me. As I flipped through it had really basic articles on glossy paper filled with basic concepts like, "visualize your success," "manifest your dream," or my favorite, "set goals." Yup, that's $20 right there.

I came in late and caught the middle of Steve Forbes. There were jumbotrons of him everywhere. Here was this white upper class male saying things like we need to drive a stake into the heart of being overtaxed, and isn't it great to live in America where we can live the American dream, etc, etc, etc.. I began to wonder if I was at the Republican National Congress.

The next guy was someone I hadn't heard of, but apparently he is a TV evangelical preacher and is syndicated even here in Indy every Sunday. He again mentioned how great America was, but then drove it home by saying God created such a great America. He told stories of people selling Bibles and kept praising Jesus, but also then would mention several people told him that he alone saved their life by preaching. I was expecting people to start passing out and speaking in tongues. The closest thing I got was a loud "Amen!" and a lot of hands raising up to the Lord!

Could it get worse? Oh, yes, it could. After being financially raped for a $6.00 20 oz Coke, the show started up again. A lady looking much like Tammy Faye Baker complete with bad hair, too much make-up, and a wireless headset mike came on to welcome us back. She introduced a group called "Quick Change" who apparently were on America's Got Talent. Given the three ring circus appeal, I was holding out for the clowns in the small car to come whizzing up and down the aisles. Oh, and did I mention the pyrotechnics? Every speaker was announced on stage complete with stage fireworks and flashing colored lights. Flashy!

Our next speaker was some financial guy who was going to teach us about the stock market in just three easy steps. Now, anytime I hear, "three easy steps," and "wouldn't you like to be a millionaire?" I get a little skeptical. I sat through a live infomercial essentially. Don't mind that all of his stats were from 2000 (before the stock market crashed, and a little out of date), or the fact that he again mentioned how great America and the American Dream is (praise Jesus), or the fact that he said that his motto was to never lose money. Hell, even Warren Buffet lost money. He only shared testimonials of those who were successful. But wait! There's more! You too can become successful! For only a small price he was going to let you in on a secret deal and give joe schmo become successful too. What is an $11K value, he would give to people for only $1495! It was a bargain! All you had to do was give your credit card to one of the 100 representatives waving a flashing light and they would give you a tool kit for free. If you like it then they would imprint the card within 24 hours for the total and success could be yours!!! Oh Hell No. But then I realized all of this was sounding very very familiar. Including the part that wealth is powerful, but the knowledge you could pass onto your kids is invaluable. One of my relatives actually bought this system. They were gullible enough to give the $1500 only to then realize that to get to the next level of "training" it would cost another X-thousands of dollars. But hey, success could/would be yours! (As they laugh all the way to the bank with your money.) Here's the deal: if he's so successful, why in the world would he be passing along his secret to you and would he really even need to be out doing these sales pitches? Why? Because, fools that buy his "system" are making HIS American Dream come true. Oh. My. God.

By the break, I was done. I can't keep my mouth shut by now. I'm on my own soapbox in front of my peers about how can anyone be so stupid. One of them raised her hand and said that she bought the system last year, but it was only $1000 then. And of course, she never used it, "because it was too complicated." She felt good that she got it for $500 less than what the going rate was this year. I just couldn't believe she went to this thing two years in a row! I began to long for my emails and piles of spreadsheets on my desk. Anything was better than this. I would have rather been a budding phelbotimist's guinea pig with multiple needle stabs than sit through this.

The last speaker for the morning was preceded by a former singer of Santana singing made up lyrics about motivation to songs like "This Land is Your Land" and doing the running man. Are you freaking kidding me? It reminded me of the Simpson's episode where Bart is recruited to be in a boy band and their catch phrase is, "Nioj eht yvan," concerts on a aircraft carrier, and everyone is joining the Navy. El Dummo. There is nothing subliminal about this. Again, more pyrotechnics and Tammy-wanna-be came back on to announce the greatest man she knew, her husband and co-founder of the Get Motivated! seminars. I was officially done. This guy looked like an effeminate Ronald McDonald who needed thyroid meds as his eyes were bugging out of his head. I began to walk out. In front of my peers. They followed suit. In the food court lunch line, one of my fellow attendees said, "Well they may be married, but they certainly have never had sex."

I didn't go back to the RCA Dome. I couldn't have if I still wanted to have integrity. Sure they may have had an alum list of speakers that would knock your socks off, however I know for a fact that Maya Angelou's price for 1 hour of speaking was $10K back in 1998. These guys were getting paid huge bucks to pitch their products all in the name of a moral hook involving God, family, and America.

Get Motivated! Nope, more like Get Scammed!