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So what else is new?

We are having a potluck today, and like always, someone is being cheap. Her dish maybe cost $7.00. Mine? It cost at least $15.00. AND it's homemade. AND it feeds more than four people.

I know. Grow up! Right?

I'm trying.

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One week in...

I'm taking PROZAC. I'm on day 8, which means I just doubled the doseage from the first week; meaning I am now ingesting two pills instead of the one they had me taking the first week.

I read the paperwork provided by the pharmacist. I've seen the list of possible side effects, and warning signs. I am familiar.

I wonder sometimes about the wisdom of giving this information to the patient. I mean, I know they HAVE TO make people aware. It's common sense. Well, and safer for everyone involved.

I must say though, a lot of my waking hours are spent *dwelling* on these things; the possible side effects.

Am I irritated today because of the medication? or is this just normal irritation?
Was that a suicidal thought? (don't worry! that one is just for an example... I am NOT suicidal.)
Are my aches and pains from the medicine?
Did the overtly-sexual dream I had last night mean I am spinning out of control?
Is my mind EVER going to stop racing in this manner?

I'm not sure about all of this yet. It's troubling me for sure.

oh my. I suddenly feel weepy.

and wobbly. oh.

Are we in Junior High?

It's Customer Service Week, and there is all kinds of frivolity going on at the old workplace; banner making, cheer creating, song composition. It's a sad mixture of "Go Team!" and "High School Musical". Which creates more excitement than "A Barrel Full of Monkeys". (Sarcasm there.. did you find it?)

Tomorrow, at 3PM, there will be a CLOSING CEREMONY. Yes. You heard me. There will be speeches, and awards. And there will be a procession; the FLAG/Banner Procession. With music. And cheers. Oh the horror.

We are all to wear blue pants (jeans are OK unless really faded) and red shirts (preferably ALL red... not a print with some red in it). IF we know where our Company baseball cap is, we may wear that as well.

Are you kidding me? A PARADE? With UNIFORMS?

Did we suddenly all become TWELVE YEARS OLD? (Although I doubt my 12 year old niece would participate, unless forced under threat of pain or no internet for several weeks, in a parade.)

I... have a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon. And even if the doctor sticks me with the BIGGEST NEEDLE on this planet, or makes me sicker than someone who ate bad sushi then went on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the local carnival, I am glad to be going to see him. Because even though they SAY, "Participation in this activity is strictly voluntary and is not a condition of employment.", I do not believe them. They will MAKE me march in their silly parade.

And I am not having it.

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.