Monday, September 26, 2011

Where are the woods?

I suppose we should talk, Universe (or whatever).

On Friday, you made me, well, not quite happy because I haven't really been happy in a while, but you made me feel good. You gave me a job interview on Tuesday. Not just another interview at the same level, but an interview for a job that would be a promotion. I haven't had an interview like that for four or five years. I guess I was excited.

And that excitement led to a decent weekend of nothing. I watched the first season of Louis. I caught up on e-mail and my feed reader. I was generally lazy, but felt okay about it.

Sure, there were things that happened, things I was told, things that I thought that weren't so great, but I had an interview for a promotion on Tuesday.

Sunday night I couldn't get to sleep. My mind raced with thoughts that I'd rather not repeat. I didn't get to sleep until about four-and-a-half hours before I had to wake up for work on Monday. I had an interview on Tuesday for a promotion, though.

At work this morning I was told, without actually being told, that a nurse is being asked to resign and she will resign, leaving us another nurse short. Then I found out that half our clerical staff are out, but should have been told hours before I did find out. And then, forty minutes before, I got volunteered to take minutes at a meeting I've never been to before and don't know what they are looking for. (Let me put it this way, Universe (or whatever), at a staff meeting you just write down the crap people say. At this meeting they were actually expecting specific things to be taken down because they are important and could come up at a lawsuit.) And I was unhappy, but I kept thinking about that interview for a promotion.

But then, Universe (or whatever), I got an e-mail. And what did that e-mail say? It said that the interviews tomorrow were cancelled. My presence, Universe (or whatever), was neither required nor requested in Cow City.

And I still had the fucking meeting to go to so that I could take minutes.

Fuck you, Universe (or whatever). Fuck you.

Maybe we need some time apart.

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