miss nothing in 2013-2014

I don't like who my job is turning me into.

You can blame the eternal winter, if you want--I usually start spiraling downhill a bit in February. But it's just... this freaking job.

I'm impatient. I'm sulky. I've got a damn complex over not feeling heard. I resent everyone coming within two feet of me. I'm insecure. My diet and sleep hygiene are all over the damn place because I'm so unsettled (and because of some epic and odd stomach bug circling campus). I'm just thoroughly unhappy. I come home and all I want to do is sleep so that I can pass the days faster, but that just screws me up for bedtime. I don't want to go to bed. That means I have to wake up and go to work.

I don't think they're going to replace me when I leave. Because I'm already replaced. My feelings aren't hurt, but it's not exactly a comfortable position. I watch things that I used to handle get shunted to Josh, watch Josh work constantly, and I do maybe two hours a day of actual work. Maybe. If the invoices all arrived in a flood, or if it's the end of a billing period, or a new batch of vehicles need maintenance. I barely warrant part-time. I keep waiting to be called out for... something. Billy reorganized the hierarchy and I'm just... nervous and insecure. I mean, I've been in this role for over a year, and now I'm Josh's assistant? What? Josh's job position is two weeks old!

Some of it is just institutionalized office rudeness. I don't know if this is a UGA thing or if it's everywhere; I don't have the experience to tell. You can't say more than a sentence at a time without someone cutting you off. Half the time, you're cut off so someone can change the subject. Whatever your conversation was, it's not important. Whoever you're talking to will dismiss you to listen to the new guy mention that the printer's out of paper, or where do you want to go to lunch. The only winners are the men who speak so loudly that you have to scream to be heard over them. It's... hugely demoralizing for me. Sometimes I finish my sentence and walk away, and most of the time I'm not missed. Worse, a few minutes later someone will ask me what my conclusion was. Even if I say "I just told you and you weren't listening," it goes right over their heads. I hate it. Every now and then, rarely, I'll cut off the interrupter. The preschool teacher will come through with a sharp comment about manners, and that warrants stunned looks every time. I hate feeling invisible, I hate feeling inaudible. Not to mention that an office with 14 fluorescent lights and full of people using their carrying outdoor voices is incredibly draining. Sometimes I just come home and crawl in bed for the peace and quiet and darkness of it. I barely even listen to music at home anymore unless I'm cooking. Quiet.

I mean, if they were yelling because it was important, that would be one thing. Normal phone conversations do not need to be shouted. If I'm across the cubicle maze and can't hear my phone conversation, quiet the fuck down.

For the most part, they are nice, generous men. It's just killing me to work for them. I come home and everything annoys me. Lena meowing, Sheppy wanting to go outside, it all triggers flashes of irritation that absolutely shouldn't be there. I get impatient sometimes with Aaron because he's telling me about his day, and I am so damn tired of being talked at. Or Skype garbles a sentence I said, and I have to repeat myself, like I do at work. Half the time now when people talk to me, they're actually talking at me. I've been watching this carefully. My input is not needed or valued. They're just talking.

I come home and while I always love spooning with Lena, I don't want to be solicited for pets or attention because I'm so damn tired of it all. I don't have an office, or even a cubicle. I have a small desk station literally right by the door that people are slamming a hundred times a day, or standing in and having their loud conversations. A few have this idea that the way to have a good talk with me is to lean right over my shoulder and put their hand on my desk so I can't get away, so close that if I were to stand suddenly, I'd break their noses. One guy gets bored so he'll come and sit two feet behind me and start up random small-talk. When I come home, I just want to be left alone. Don't paw me for attention, don't meow and whine at me, don't hover over me, just let me breathe. If Aaron's here, it turns into hiding in his lap and basically refusing to deal with the world for two hours.

Before I leave, I'm going to average how many times that fucking door slams behind me a day and I'm going to present it to whoever my boss is at the moment. People use it as a shortcut through the building and are ALWAYS coming and going. There's another door in the partition that I'm next to as well, and that door definitely slams. The engineers' area, with actual offices and walls and desk space, is at the back of the building with a door to the lot with the state vehicles that we ALL use and that I manage. They got tired of people passing through there--even though the keys and sign-out log are there--so they lock their back door. Now you have to literally walk around the building looking for an unlocked side or warehouse door. When they initiated that, I wanted to scream. You guys can slam your doors and walk behind me all day every day, but I can't go out toward MY vehicles three times a week? Half the time, they're not even IN their offices! What are they afraid of, someone stealing their things? I mean, that's probably some kind of legit--my blue pens go missing frequently, and now I hide my scissors, but you are not getting any sympathy from me.

The frustration is bleeding into my home life, and that is awful. My jaw hurts. I get tension headaches. Home is my respite from work and even that isn't pure.

I need a new job. I only have about 3 months left in this one. I wish I had a firm countdown so I could write the days on my hand or something. I Just need to get out of here. Even Aaron's noticing. I think he's starting to worry about me. I tried to check my weather forecast the other day and put in Charleston's zip code instead.

Everywhere I ever work will have problems and rude people who piss me off. Hopefully, everywhere I ever work will not treat me like I'm disposable. I have dreams about an actual desk, getting the computer calibration that I actually need, and not having people scream and slam doors behind me all day. That's not too outlandish, is it?

Please don't depress me, crappy job. I have so much to be excited about.