weary

I am combing over the paperwork and composing a list of things that need attention. There are so many things that have gone awry on this particular package. While I was out "sick", the signed documents were assigned to one processor. Also, while I was out "sick", the collateral documents were assigned to another. A third portion of the deal was assigned to yet another person. None of them knew what the other was doing. Here we are, almost two months later, and the whole pile is dumped back in my lap. It is returned to me with no explanation as to why it was not resolved in my absence; or why we have taken no action to remedy the alleged problems.

In my eyes it is simple; straightforward even.

And yet, here it is. Now it's a tangled mess. Now it looks like we are completely incompetent. Actually, it looks like *I* am the one who doesn't know what she is doing. It looks like *I* am the one who screwed up.

I am so upset about this that I am practically paralyzed over it.

I hope sleeping helps. That is all I want right now.

My bed.

My bed and a sleeping pill.

Dreamless sleep.

homeward bound

There's almost nothing better than riding home on the train with good friends. I love to hear about their days. Their stories are so funny!

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drama llama ding dong

Yesterday I was called to the Customer Service area about a loan I documented some 4 months ago. An incoming call to their area initiated the call to me. Would I come and look at the documentation file, located on QueenBee's desk? I certainly would - but I would do it with a sense of dread. OVERWHELMING DREAD.

At her desk, the QueenBee sat, with a superior look on her face. "I am better than you." read her body language. My hairs stood on end as I approached her. "What's up?" I asked.

"You have documented this loan INCORRECTLY." she stated.

Her tone of voice alone was horrid. Paired with her facial expression it was down-right unbearable. I was floundering for something to say... I could NOT believe I was being talked to like I was an idiot, like I had no brain, like a child that has been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. Who the HELL does this BITCH think she is?

Luckily her phone rang. She picked it up without excusing herself from our conversation. I stared at the back of her head and wondered how many times I could pound her skull before she'd FEEL ANYTHING. Then I listened to her conversation. She was speaking with the Account Officer for the loan in question. She was telling him that there were "problems" with the loan documents! She was about to name names!

I cleared my throat to remind her I was standing there. She quickly told the account officer that she would call him back.

As soon as I had her attention, I asked, "What is the problem?"

Her story: "I got a call from S in the XYZ Office. She needed to know how many officers need to sign on behalf of the corporation."

I said, "And that information is here." showing her where that was.

"Yes." she said. "BUT if you look HERE (and she turns the pages to an obscure portion of the BY-LAWS), it CLEARLY states something different."

"And you were looking at the BY-LAWS because...?" Clearly her job is to tell the caller what our documents say. "Isn't the information you needed right here?" Again, I turn her back to the LEGAL document that shows the information used to prepare our documents.

"Well, I don't agree, and I have called the Account Officer to let him know that our documents are questionable!"

"Great!" I enthused. "Is there a good reason to do THAT, instead of bringing it to my Supervisor's attention? Wouldn't THAT be the right thing to do?"

She began muttering about documentation being a joke in general, that we didn't always know what we are doing, that she could see that we were lacking in thoroughness. As my eyebrows raised, and my blood pressure soared, I invited her to come over any time and type some documents with us.

Then I said, "I am going to walk away right now. I cannot talk to you about this any more. I would advise you to take the file to my Supervisor BEFORE you make any more calls to people, especially since you do NOT know what you are talking about."

This morning I got the chance to speak with my Supervisor, who knew that there had been a verbal altercation. She said, "Was she RUDE to you, again?"

As the story unfolded, my Supervisor's eyes grew bigger and bigger. Her bugged out eyes were like a soothing lip balm on my dry chapped heart. "OH!" she exclaimed. "I did NOT know that she was doing THAT! OH! That HAS TO STOP!"

Yes. Yes it does.

Not only does our team have persons designated to check the quality of our work, we have Supervisors that do spot checks. Not only do we have a Compliance Officer that checks for discrepancies, we have Auditors that come to our department quite often to do check ups. Each of us checks the work within a file as we touch it for something else. We have a smoothly running machine. We have no need of a meddling WANNA BE. No need at all.

I'll be damned if I have to answer to HER. EVER.

Snap, Clap & Tap

I am happy to report that the tapping has subsided. The clapping has turned to the loud snapping of gum! Seriously?

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wonderful

I made the mistake of opening up my email today.  There, in my INBOX, was an email from a very NICE co-worker of mine.  She is always pleasant.  She's a sympathetic sort.  I can always count on her for a smile or two. Of course I opened it.  Of course.  I was expecting happiness.

What I read was completely different from that.

Now.  If you KNEW someone was home on doctor's orders...  If you were AWARE that they had had some sort of melt-down... Would you send them an email telling that person the following things?

• Everyone has a backlog of at least two days worth of work.
• H called in sick, and S was on vacation on Monday. So it got even worse.
• I started to cry on Tuesday because things are so bad here.

So umm.  How EXACTLY did she THINK this was going to be HELPFUL to me?  Or did she not think at all?  Or was she just letting me know, so that I could plan my NEXT BREAKDOWN?  People are un-"F"ing believable.

Pass me the pills please?

I'm going to need them when I go back on Monday.

undone

On top of all of the OTHER stresses I have in my life, there is the FAMILY things that are happening.  One of which is my brother's marriage.  You may ask WHY I have anything to do with this?  I would ask that question as well.


When they were first married, some 20 years ago, they had a HUGE blow up; a fight of EPIC proportions.  And my brother came home to live with my Mom.  He told the story to anyone who would listen.  He told of how HORRIBLE his wife was; and how she had abused their trust, and nullified their marriage vows. In short, he made sure that everyone in the family was ON HIS SIDE of the argument.


And then they got back together.  And the rest of us were left with resentment and bitter feelings.  While they were making sweet love, the rest of us were sucking lemons.  And swallowing.  Ten months later, a sweet angel was born.  She was truly our little miracle. 


It was hard to accept the SIL after everything my brother had shared.  But we did.  She was, after all, the mother of my niece, and my brother's beloved wife.  I have grown to love her as a sister.  She is always there for me.  It would be only natural that she would THINK I would be there for her too.


Except for one thing.


I don't think that married women (or even married men, for that matter) should share the intimate personal details of their marriage (good or bad) with people who are close to them. OK, maybe there are SOME things that CAN BE shared.  BUT... there are some things that should NOT. 

• I don't want to know if my brother is verbally abusive.  THIS is something I cannot fix.
• I don't want to know that his fights with a few of his children have become shoving matches. Shoving matches between a child and a father? THAT is something I want to fix.  Again.  I cannot.
• I don't want to know about him throwing things and breaking things.
• I don't want to hear about him yelling.  or stomping out of the house. or driving off in a rage.
• I don't want to hear that he gets on the phone with a buddy and jokes about his 8 year old son being GAY; joking where the 8 year old can hear him.
• I certainly don't want to know that he interrogates the 18 year old after EVERY date she goes on... asking completely inappropriate and PERSONAL questions about what happened on said date.  For hours at a time.  Is it any wonder that this child doesn't WISH to date anyone?   

I do not think my brother is the only one who has problems. Oh no. I know that my SIL does too.  She is not blameless in all of this.  But to hear my brother tell the story, she is whacked out on drugs (really?), has multiple personalities (looked in the mirror much buddy?) and is generally abusive to all children (this person who runs a Day Care out of her home and is scrutinized by County agencies? OK....).  Yes, she spends too much of their hard-earned money.  I would too, if it gave me a few fleeting moments of pleasure; pleasure that my marriage does not give me. She tells me that he has ALWAYS had these problems.  OK. Then why did you continue to make babies with this man?  Why didn't you RUN from the angry outbursts when you had the chance, some 19 years ago?  Like... BEFORE the babies started coming?

Sadly enough, I am planted firmly in her camp.  And my mother is planted firmly in my brother's camp.  We have agreed to disagree.  Then again, she does not know the THINGS that I KNOW.  When my SIL told me the things listed above (and more... OH SO MUCH MORE), I decided NOT to share them with Mom.  And I forbade HER from sharing them with Mom too.  She cannot take it right now.

And neither can I.  One of the hardest things I have EVER had to do, was look her in the eyes and say, "SIL, I can't hear any of this anymore.  I am too emotionally undone to hear any more of these stories.  I KNOW you need to tell someone; to share the burden with someone.  I am NOT that person.  I cannot be that person right now.  I am sorry.  I just can't."

The look in her eyes nearly killed me.  If I hadn't been on the Lorazepam, I would have crumbled into a puddle and cried.  I could see how hurt she was. Of course I explained what was happening to me.  She understood then.  

She is seeking help as well.  Therapy has been procured for the SIL and the children.  Incidents have occurred where the police have been called.  Child Protective Services has become involved.  A lawyer has been consulted.  My brother will likely be asked to move out. 

My mother knows very little of all of this.

The 8 year old posts to Facebook: "Ugh. Another fight with my Dad. I wish life were easier."

And THAT... undid me.  

lists... i make them

So, I think I had a *melt-down* on Thursday.  At least, that is what I would call it.  I began to cry around 1:30-2:00-ish... and didn't stop completely until after 8PM.  I guess I'd had enough.  Enough of what? you might ask.  Enough.  Of everything.  EVERYTHING.

Here are some of the things on my mind this day, as I am on a doctor mandated SICK day to get my feet back underneath me (and as I wait for my first appointment with a Psychologist):

• the coworker tapping
• the coworker that was seen digging in someone else's purse and is STILL working there. 
• the fact that i have to LOCK my desk EVERY TIME I leave it, for fear of him digging through my purse.
• the inane insane ridiculous asinine phone calls from the other department - asking me to give them information I do not have, nor do I need.  If they need it, shouldn't they be calling the people who supply that information?
• the rush Rush RUSHING I am expected to do.  without any break in the work load.
• the new STUFF that Upper Management (UM) comes up with.  Stuff that we are supposed to accept without question.  Stuff that sounds good on paper, but when it comes down to being USER FRIENDLY... well it fails in major ways.
• the lack of training for such pet projects.  Three months in and I STILL don't know how or why?
• the general lack of common courtesy in my workplace.
• the lack of direction from our supervisor
• the lack of understanding from her too. (and she has been in our shoes!)
• the FORMS (!!!) that have to filled out for every task we do.  (again, the pet project of UM!)
• coworkers that pretend to have your best interests in mind, then leave little treats at your desk, knowing full well you will eat them and suffer the consequences.
• having to pull my own files, while the file room staff works on yet ANOTHER pet project of UM.
• seeing the file room staff prepare fancy coffees for staff  when there is perfectly GOOD coffee in the break room that anyone can enjoy for FREE!
• knowing that while they are supposed to be working on that project, they are really walking back and forth from the kitchen, making the fancy coffees, when they COULD BE helping me pull my files!  (ohIMUSTblogaboutTHISlater!)

I know that ANY job I would go to would have these (or similar) problems to endure.  And endure I must.  Usually I would be ABLE to handle all of this.  I'm a big girl.  I handle stress.  I thought I handled it pretty well.

It's just that all of the above was combined with OTHER stresses.  Family stresses.  My own personal crap (oh yes! I have CRAP!).  The death of my father - which (who knew?) has caused me some anxiety in ways I could not have imagined.  And watching my Mother as she watches HER mother (my Grandma) slowly fade away.  It's all very stressful for me.

I'm certain that it will all work itself out.  I am seeking help.  I will heal.  I will be back to my strong, silly, sarcastic and witty self.

Soon.