August has been a downright silly month. As laid out in my last enty, I quit my job, had FOB craziness that was just this side of too crazy and started the new job chapter of life. Forget the month, it was basically an insane two weeks.
Giving my two week notice was not as weird as I thought it would be. I mean, I had an awkward few hours, but since I was so happy with the new gig, I couldn't diminish that. Unlike last time, I told them where I was going and what I was doing. Having an actual place to go - and a place I was excited about - made that much easier. Also, since I wasn't a ball of misery every single day, this time felt like much less of a "fuck you" and more of a genuine "thank you and goodnight." Better feelings and terms. Less desperation.
As planned, I closed the office on my final day, met Amber at my apartment and we headed to Melissa's to start the venture to Vegas. Vegas was, well, kind of a mess.
Hanging out with them was great and our whole day of eating, drinking, walking and lounging was fab. The show, however, was less than.
Between Pete's dead, soulness gaze, playing "Beat It," their general boredom on stage and not playing "Saturday," it was lackluster all over the place. My highlight was Patrick announcing "Grand Theft Autumn" with "Speaking of old and crotchety, here's..." except that came to bite me in the ass.
To say the least, I complained, Twitter got crazy, PStump made me feel kind of shitty via direct message and I now have a moment in time where I replay all the better things I could have said. So. Fucking. Stupid.
We had awesome seats in Irvine where I had much more fun than I've had for a minute from the barricade. Something about them having a stage set-up to distract me and not being in a crowd where I knew I wouldn't be satisfied with song reactions let me disconnect in a much more pleasing way. Anyways, I'm pretty sure dude is not a creeper enough to have bothered connecting any dots two days later, so I was able to do this and be told it was his favorite idea of the day.
I drove about half-way home from Concord before having Mel take over so I didn't kill us and could rest a little. I was physically in my bed for one hour before going to my first official shift at my new job. The two weeks prior I had been pulling 10-hour days, working my regular 8 at EOC then heading over to train for a couple hours. It was killer but worth it not to waste all that time.
Now, I'm trying to figure out everything about my new position. I'm finally getting proper training to perform my daily tasks and learning the million other miscellaneous projects that come up. It's been pretty much what I expected and hoped for, maybe a little less routine day-to-day but at some point I won't view that as a negative. I have a lot of confidence that I will be fucking awesome at this job very soon.
It is very strange to work with people around my age, though. Being around peers has obviously never been a strength for me, but these kids have the grown-up, in-charge traits I appreciate, even if none of our musical tastes intersect. (If I have to hear about FYF and being fifth row for The Strokes for another week from one of my managers I don't think I can withhold the eye roll.) I'm quite pleased that I left the other job with two real friends and a couple of bosses that I would certainly call more than just that so I'm hopeful that something more comes about with the new coworkers.
I've chosen to have Friday & Saturday as my weekend which works out disturbingly well for the New Found/Fireworks tour in the Fall, as well as The Wonder Years and State Champs. I'm happy to leave my Abusive Boyfriend (oh yeah, Patrick does not like that. If I ever get the chance to explain it to him, maybe... no he'd still think it was awful) so I can go have actual fun and not just feel lost.
"Best friends, ex-friends till the end..."
Good bye free eye exams, Rayban and Dior frames at cost and knowing exactly what I'll be wearing to work every day (scrubs) because I got the job!
My second interview didn't feel nearly as smooth as the first. I'm not at all practiced in the "give an example of time you fought with a coworker/went above and beyond/disagreed with a policy but went along with it anyways" questions so every single thing was off the cuff and completely honest. I guess that method and whatever I babbled displayed what I needed.
In the two weeks before getting the official call (oh, I got a call Wednesday asking to clarify some information for my background check which was kind of
a helpful hint) I had a lot of time to think about the issues with taking this job. I didn't mention it in the previous entry, but in addition to the decrease in funds, a huge issue I had to take into account was possible surgery on my hand. That problem as been such an unexpectedly fucked up roller coaster all year long
that I really only have one choice regarding it: put it off as long as I can. I was doing everything I could to get it done while I was at EOC and on my mom's insurance but it became clear that I couldn't force the doctors into solving the problem that way, so while I feel like I've been being jerked around, and in that time my hand has actually gotten much worse, I'm going to have to make due. The cortisone shots do seem to help relive symptoms for a bit but I was really hoping on a permanent fix. Now, I'll just have to wait it out so I can get my position established.
So, I will be the new Store Secretary Bookkeeper (SSB) at Buffalo Exchange in Sherman Oaks. It is only about a mile from EOC, so barely further from the apartment.
Tuesday, I will go have for my "job overview and intake" which I think is basically an orientation? I will probably start two weeks from that, as I have to give EOC notice.
Right in the middle of this is FOBcation. It looks like I will spend nine more days at the optometry office, doing my FOB shows, see my hand doctor to say "yes, cortisone works great, let's keep that up!" and then get started at Buffalo Exchange. That's what I see, anyways.
I am fucking scared. I'm excited but so, so nervous. As for the job itself, I love that it sounds like what I've always wanted; working internally and mostly solo, only dealing with the public on the rare occasion they're short on the sales floor, having my own projects to manage, running errands when needed. The things that excite me are the same things that scare me.
My coworkers and boss are near my age, give or take maybe 8-10 years and are creative types. I'm so used to being the weird kid around all my normal coworkers that that has kind of become my place, but these are people I should
fit right in with, except how often has that happened in my life?
It's all bullshit excuses but I am very nervous. You're supposed to be, though, right?
I'm ready for the challenge and ready for the compromises. This is the change I have been wanting in my life and I'm finally getting it.
Nearly a year ago I was faced with a difficult decision: choose to be unemployed for an indefinite amount of time or stay with my job and receive higher compensation.
My amount of grown-up decisions are few so it truly was one of the hardest decisions I've had to make. It took so much for me to finally give my resignation after months of a completely miserable existence that the decision to rescind was almost even heavier.
After over a year of submitting applications - last year to any and everything, while this year I allowed myself to be more selective - I finally got a call back yesterday. It terrifies me at just how many applications went with zero reply, but getting one has felt phenomenal. Mostly.
Last night, after being immensely excited, I started thinking about the possible negatives: pay, hours, benefits, new co-workers. All this time all I've wanted was a way out of my current job but then I had the very real thought that this job may end up wanting me but I may not want it, and that feels so selfish, although I know it's just realistic possibility. It's disappointing.
I had my interview today and it felt pretty damn good. I felt confident in my answers and presentation. They said it's typically a 2 to 3 interview process and it seemed like a no brainer when they asked me back for the second round. Fantastic!
A year ago, I would've been wholeheartedly on board. Things sounded great until I realized that my income would significantly decrease. The hourly pay is less than a quarter under my current wage but the position also offers 8 hours less. Two strikes on money. If I'm doing my math right, about $400 less a month. Ouch.
I was flat out told the hourly wage was set and that experience wouldn't change it. However, after 6 months there is review for a raise, and then yearly after that. Which, hey that's a much better system than I currently work with (i.e. none. No rules or policies regarding $$$ at all).
Then, there is insurance that includes vision, dental and an HSA (which I am trying to fully understand) versus the Kaiser coverage I will forced into come March.
I can't help but come back to that $400. What if I get offered this job tomorrow or the next day? I really don't know. I hate that this is an issue. I wanted so badly for the pro/con list to be laughably obvious but it just isn't.
All this and it isn't even applicable yet. Fingers crossed tomorrow goes swell. At the very least, it would be extremely flattering to decline the offer.
Actually, at the very least, it has been extremely flattering just to get the call, the second interview is already a bonus.
I dream of Boston and being alone. As of late, that latter part is becoming increasingly important.
I want to have my own place. My own space. I don't just want to shut a door to someone, although compared to my current state, that would be an upgrade. I want to have everything be mine
from the front door and beyond.
I don't want to share. Dishes, electricity, television, carpet.
I've always been more productive that way. It's why those first two years of high school were great and retentive. I had mine. Now, I have nothing.
I want a better me not a miserable me and lately my misery comes from having to always having to share. I don't want to hear anyone else's noises, breathing, keyboard tapping or bed shifting.
I dream of Boston and I dream of being alone.
As last year came to a close I began to dread this year for one specific reason: birthdays.
For the last few years it has felt like everyone
wanted to have a get together for their day. Everyone
being the tiny amount of friends I find myself relating to most. Time has whittled away the unimportant ones who weren't worth the trouble and left this group of us together, for better or worse. In our group, at least one birthday falls in each month from December to May.
Once a month, every few weeks, we get together. I dread the monotony. I dread the faked effort and enthusiasm. I dread my interest and lack thereof. We're us which means there is little in the way of new, different or adult. I'm not putting anyone down, do what makes you happy. You. Because I can't be pleased. But I know that, so I wouldn't want anyone to sweat it.
I'm thrilled to avoid my birthday. It's not about pity or some self-loathing desire for attention, I'm genuinely fine not doing anything at all "special." Food is cool, but why bother pretending it's much else. It's another day and another dinner.
This year, I'm thinking Jessica Day has the right idea. I don't expect a Nick Miller.
Just under ten days left in the year and what has 2013 been? A bit of a roller coaster, with more drops than climaxes, a handful of joyful moments, a couple of devastating ones, and mostly a plateau of nothing too interesting. Each time we were due up for a big change, it didn't happen. Anticipation hit walls every time and sometimes that was killer, but sometimes that meant hanging on a little longer.
There were things like thinking I needed
to be in LA and promises of a new job, but one of those turned out not to be so necessary while the other didn't happen at all. The whole dramatically quitting my job just to end up staying
situation was one of the things I expected the biggest, most important changes from in 2013, but, as the title gives away, results were null.
LA didn't quite enthrall me either. Not the way it has in the past. I didn't need it like I thought I did. Not even close.
Near the end of Summer it looked like we'd be losing a family member. We did, but not the one expected. All this time later and my grandpa has been doing surprisingly well. It's not perfect, but so much better than it looked for a while. On the other hand, we still miss cousin Pam dearly and holidays will never be the same.
I've watched the same amount of friends have successful years as ones who have been beaten.
My 2007-2009 self made a huge comeback and in true crazy girlfriend fashion, the good parts were the best they've ever been while the bad parts were downright ugly. Ask my Abusive Boyfriend. I'm never really sure if they're happy we're still around or bummed we haven't grown-up like they have. I wonder the same thing.
I'm afraid of 2014. I may have a goal or two, but I'm not enough of an asshole to pretend the calendar will change my life. Maybe it'll be our year? I'm optimistic enough to confidently say we're due.
It truly, genuinely baffles me that you can get a bunch of people in room and they speak to each other. Interact. I have zero ability to be apart of it because I can't understand it.
Tonight I was Kendra's +1 to the 20th anniversary party for Hopeless Records. Which is, cool. It's cool to live in LA and be able to be apart of geographically unique things like that. I can say that I went, but that's 100% the extent of what I have to say about the experience. Per usual, we stood in a corner and watched everyone around us. I don't know any of these people, have nothing to make me nervous or intimidated, it's just a place with people and alcohol and well, it's a party. A standard, normal situation.
And I just stood there in confusion. Before tonight, I've always made myself have a bad time because I wanted to be apart of what I saw. I wanted so badly to jump into a conversation, laugh, make them laugh, look happy, meet new people. But tonight, I just accepted that that isn't a thing for me. It never will be.
Talking to people is trivial to me. What the fuck do you talk about? Seriously, I have nothing. It's hard when my friends (all like 8 of us, max) get together we're reaching for things to talk about. I haven't a clue what you talk about to people you don't know. None.
At work, with patients, it's always the weather, the holidays,
any number of peoples' babies. There's something. And our interaction is miniscule anyways, if I can help it. But in life? No idea.
I've lived in my own head for so long I can't imagine being any other way. I've learned to not need the interaction, most of the time. I feel fine by myself. Sure, I have times when I'd like for that to be different (we absolutely do not need examples of those times) but the only thing that makes me feel weird about being solo is other people anyways. Maybe they should just go away.
It's why I'd rather turn up a song I like and sing along to it than hear anyone talk, or why I'd rather read an article than hear someone's story. The amount of joy this thing will bring me > whatever interaction we have. Always.
With the way I live my life, no one new has entered it since 2008 (that's partly unfair, I do have a few people that I'm not counting for, reasons. A like n/a to this right here) and it doesn't look to be changing anytime soon. And that's just what it is.
This isn't an entry of sadness or defeat. It's one of acceptance. Mostly. I can't change something I don't understand. There are things I'm simply not meant to do.
Sat, Nov. 2nd, 2013, 10:17 pm
I don't enjoy the things we do. There's no nicer way to say it.
If I'm not around, I don't get jealous or feel left out; more than anything, I feel relived. It isn't so much laziness that keeps me on the couch as it is pure disinterest in the activity options.
We laugh, but we don't make memories. Nothing interesting enough to regret. Outside parties are never, ever involved.
More often than not, normal shit doesn't sound that bad these days.
I don't get to complain because I don't have any solutions. It's only fair that way.
Three days after my last entry we were told by my grandpa's doctors that we needed to begin looking into hospice care. While it's an inevitable thing that we all knew would come sooner rather than later, the 8 and a half year break I've had from hospice
has been a-ok. If I never have to watch another family member deteriorate that would be really fantastic. Impossible, but fantastic.
As if the whole situation isn't bad enough just for being what it is, my uncle from Arizona has been, well, a complete asshole through everything and then some. I can't wait till I don't have to talk to most of this family because the worthwhile few are great but then there's everyone else who I couldn't really give a fuck about. I'm so sick of hearing "family is family, no matter what." Oh, shut the fuck up.
A month ago we thought he'd have weeks left, but physically his body seems to have plateaued while his mind is getting worse by the day. He barely stays awake for an hour at a time, remembers almost nothing, and doesn't do much conversing or story telling. It fucking sucks. I've spent time with him all but two days for over two weeks. Next week I go back to work and while I desperately don't want to, money is kind of an annoying bitch. Oh wait, go back to work? Well.
My second to last week at work my office manager decided to have a discussion with me about money. After resisting the conversation - because what the fuck being a sell out or something - I didn't get as much as I asked for since they genuinely cannot afford the $5 raise prompted, but got $2 more and okay'd 2 week family leave. I lied my ass off and told them that with every thing happening with my grandpa (not a lie) that my I just couldn't start my new job (total lie) so I decided to stay. Yep, one week prior I was fully prepared to be jobless but in the span of a weekend, after going through a wreck of ideas and emotions, especially after the wreck I went through deciding to finally make the jump, I ended up selling out and staying. While yes, it would've been hard starting something new due to my grandpa's situation, if I really had ANY other offer from ANY other job, I would've been gone without hesitation. Unfortunately, I've still never gotten even a single interview or call back. It's a pretty shitty self-esteem smackdown.
The new plan? Staying till next year, hopefully getting surgery done on my hand to stop it from going numb all the time while I have my mom's insurance and then start applying again. It's gross that I'm almost relieved at this point that my job offered to keep me because while I thought I was prepared to not have an income, that idea terrifies me more now that it did when it was actually going to happen. Hell, the two weeks I haven't worked and will receive no compensation for since my grandpa's doctor doesn't understand what family leave entails already has my bank account looking less cute.
Still, I'm dreading having to return. Despite the circumstance, these couple weeks have been reminiscent of Summer vacation and I can't express how lovely it's been. This growning up thing ain't getting any easier.
For proof that I am indeed a grown-up, I've been losing my mind over September 22 in which I have a ticket to FOB/Panic!(Zack? Meow, yes!) in San Diego and to All Time Low/The Wonder Years in Ventura. This is some Sophie's Choice type shit that my heart can't handle. I can't even pretend to be sure of where I'll end up, it's that hard
of a decision. Past and never-dwindling love versus the most important ones who filled the void. Life is hard.
On that note, I have no plans to do anything till that weekend so until then I'm going to try really hard not to be obnoxious and complain about work, visit my gramps and some cute boy in the VA every weekend and spend the rest of my Sunday's analyzing Dexter's final season.
It is not a good time to be a family member I care about. We have the on-going situation with my grandpa, which is at it's worst right now as he is in the hospital; the favorite uncle who had the successful liver transplant is suffering from a handful of other issues and is also in the hospital; and at 4:30am I received the kind of call everyone dreads, our favorite cousin, Pam, had passed.
Just typing it brings tears to my eyes and I don't quite know how to process it. She wasn't one of my many useless, asshole cousins. She is the one my mom has been closest to for the last decade and half. We've taken several vacations together, she's taught me so much, has never been judgmental, nothing but the sweetest and most supportive. She has been there for my mom when she needed someone. And now, she's not.
It seems as though she may have just gone in her a sleep. A recent heart condition - which no one thought was serious - likely lead to her heart stopping. One of those things where you say, "At least she didn't suffer." It's cliche, but true.
There's nothing more to say. I hate this and it isn't fair. Just like that, it's the end.
Thank you for everything, cousin.