Happy Thought Indeed

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved Jane Austen, U2, movies, reading, and the Red Sox. Then she met the Object of Her Affection and found someone who liked three out of five. She decided this was a good thing. This is her story.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Straight Up

Seriously, I want Paula Abdul's pharmacologist. Although she is less crazy than usual.

I love David Hernandez. I've loved him since Hollywood week. And while I like Michael Johns he wasn't good tonight.

Seriously, though, David Hernandez. He rocks.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

I Love Amoxicillin

I ended up missing three straight days of work, not including the day I left early. On Thursday, I broke down and called the doctor because the sinus pain was so, so bad I was almost crying. I'm on antibiotics for ten days, but I feel so much better, it's awesome. I'm also taking Tylenol Cold and that stuff rocks. I will never, ever take DayQuil again. It sucks ass. I may not even take NyQuil again because the nighttime Tylenol stuff is awesome.

Obsessed with Jane Austen these days. I go through these cycles where I love things to death and right now I'm all about Jane Austen.

I'm so tired and shaky still. Even though I'm kind of looking forward to going back to work, I'm wiped out still from being sick. It's not like I had a restful week off or anything. I spent all of it blowing my nose (so much so that my skin is raw and peeling around my nose), hacking, sweating, napping, and drinking tea and cranberry juice. I did get to watch some good movies, though, on IFC. Although I watched The Golden Bowl and even though it was beautifully made, it was boring as all hell. I think they must have cut a ton of stuff out from the book to make the movie, but I just didn't get it.

Omar's birthday is Thursday and I'm getting him a nice briefcase.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

DayQuil Sucks

I have a nasty, nasty cold that caused me to leave work early yesterday and stay home today. I went through an entire box of tissues in one day. The DayQuil I took so far has done squat. If I can't shake this thing tonight, I'll have to stay home again tomorrow. I have never, since high school anyway, missed more than one day of work at a time. But I still feel like shit and I can't go two minutes without blowing my nose.

Someone needs to explain to me why Rashida Jones left The Office for the crap show she's doing for Fox.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

You Can't Always Get What You Want

It is very disappointing to know you are well qualified, eager, and ready for a job that you don't get.

I was up for a promotion at work and it was given to someone else. Not to be too conceited, but that's the first time that's ever happened to me. The Ops Manager in NH told me that had the job been available in Boston, I would have been the candidate for it. But because it was available in Portsmouth and because the people who work in Portsmouth don't work at the same pace as the Boston office, they felt it wasn't a good fit.

He told me my interview was great, that my management experience was "spot on" and that they loved my answers to the questions they asked. But because I told them, honestly, that patience is sometimes my opportunity, they said I wouldn't be a good fit there because the people who work in that office need someone with more patience.

I was okay at work. I had a good cry in the ladies' room and then went back to my desk and did my job because I'm a grown up and that's what you do. My workflow came up to me in the afternoon and told me that it was bullshit and he thought I got screwed. He also told me that he was of the opinion that they were always going to promote someone out of the Portsmouth office and that they had to interview in Boston for form's sake.

I was able to get through the day. I read on the train home, but as soon as I didn't have anything to distract me I lost. I cried on the walk home from the train. I took a shower and came downstairs and watched Jane Eyre and then Omar called me from where he was at school.

I had practically begged him not to go to school last night. I was having such a hard day. My day started with my train being a half hour late, getting into an argument with a person on the bus ride to work who was being a complete bitch (a total stranger!), getting to work and getting an email from baby sis that not all was right with my parents which meant I'd have to put up with that bullshit this weekend, and then my first seven phone calls of the day were from people who just wanted to yell.

Then I get the call from the Ops Manager that I didn't get the job. I think the only thing worse that could have happened that day was getting hit by a car on the way home from the train. I could even see it happening in my mind.

Anyway, he called me to see if I had eaten anything and I hadn't. He also said he wasn't going to be home when he thought he would. I was all alone and so upset and I just wanted him to come home. There was no money in the house and the thought of cooking something made me sick. We got into a horrible argument on the phone and I blurted out to him that I would never have left him by himself if he had been upset; if it had been me, I would have skipped school to be with him.

I didn't mean to make him feel bad, but I don't think he truly understood how upset I was about not getting this job. I've never not gotten a job I interviewed for. I'm always the first choice and I've never had to deal with that. And I know that makes me sound like a total bitch, but I've only had four jobs since I left college. I just felt so overwhelmed about being passed over. Plus, I was tired this week and cranky anyway that morning. I just wanted him to come home and take care of him and he wouldn't.

I didn't mean to make him feel bad, but I wanted him to understand that he'd let me down. He's at school today and I'm going to my parents' house for dinner. But he did. I needed him and he put school first. When he said he'd come home, I told him to stay because the truth was, he would've only come home because I asked him to and that would've made me feel even worse and believe me, I didn't need to feel worse about myself than I already did. I wanted him to come home because he wanted to come home and take care of me, for me to be more important than what he was doing.

I'm not proud of that. But my self-esteem was pretty far into the toilet yesterday; it don't think it could've gotten any lower. He was so sweet when he did come home, at midnight. But I was so out of it, I had not idea what was going on. The only thing I'm happy about for yesterday is that I didn't drink when I got home. Believe me, I wanted to, but I held out. I've got another week before I'm late and I guess the only good thing that came from this whole fiasco is that I don't have to worry about my job now if I do get pregnant this year.

Someone at work told me not to make any decisions for a couple weeks, so I won't. But I'm not going to stay someplace where they're going to promote people less qualified than me because it's easier for them.

I can't even begin to say how utterly disappointed I am in how things turned out. The good thing is that I know I'm mature enough to get through it. When I called Omar to tell him I didn't get the job, he told me to tell my boss I needed to take the rest of the day off. That, to me, was the total wrong move. I stayed and I worked and I worked on my projects and helped people and did what I needed to do. I know that was the right thing, but I sure as hell didn't feel any better about myself at the end of the day.

I still don't. And I have no idea how I'm going to feel at work on Monday.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Good-bye, Guy Smiley

And you're done.

So suck on that.

You failed and I'm laughing all the way to the polls.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Who Cares?

I'm so not a football fan. And I married a huge football fan. More specifically, I married a Patriots fan. Who also will watch any other football game he can, but he loves him some Patriots.

Which is why watching the Super Bowl with him tonight has been slightly hazardous. He shouts at the t.v. He throws his arms and legs around. He shouts at the t.v. A lot. Loudly. Things like, "Kick it!" "Run, you bastard!" and my personal favorite, "Noooo!!"

While it's funny, it's so not a restful way to spend a Sunday evening.

It's also cute that he talks to me like I actually care about how this game ends.