Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

This post is for those of you who have been keeping up with my employment status, or the lack thereof. I'll come back and write a prequel, but need a place to immediately gather all the BS that's currently transpiring.

Email sent Friday, March 15:

Hello,

On several occasions I have emailed Simon and asked for clarification, but have not received a response. After Trisha contacted me this week to ask where my timesheet was, I have even more questions.

I have assumed that my services are no longer required by either of the At Home stores. Yet, I have yet to receive any information to verify this, or to give any reason why. As a contracted service provider, I know that you are under no obligation to retain my services or make any compensation. But as someone who has, as far as I know, provided good work and gone above and beyond my pay grade many times, it's extremely unprofessional to have not received some sort of confirmation.

As this has been rather aggravating, to say the least, I do not wish to call or come into the store. It has also occurred to me that Simon no longer works there, but as a friend I would have thought he'd let me know. Has he sustained an accident or worse?

Will someone please respond to this email and clarify the situation as soon as possible?

Thank you,

Nancy Ragghianti

Immediate response from the store owner, who is allegedly a former English teacher. Ahem:

I had not realize that Simon had not responded to your cocerns! 

I will get with him asap! 

Sorry about the lack of communication on this matter. 

Email received Monday, March 18:

You always could have called. I will try you a little later.

My response:

I do not want a phone call. I want written communication, not a confrontation. 

His BS:

Why would you think there was going to be a confrontation.

You emailed that you assumed you were no longer working here without taking into account anything else. Such as people being busy and/or sick. Or the fact that independent contractors are usually proactive about seeing if clients have work instead of waiting for them to reach out.

I have no personal issue and never have had one. We've talked enough that you should know I separate the work and home quite well.

Since you had assumed you were not doing any more work here we chose to move forward with an alternate plan of attack going forward. Thats all.

My retort:

This is preposterous. You have ALWAYS contacted me. In fact, you've generally hounded me to do more work than I had time for. It appears to me that you've decided you want to do all the graphics work yourself, which I don't understand. I had written to you asking about the plan for March, and was ignored. Suddenly that FB cover popped up, and you had no explanation why. I wrote again asking what was going on, and got no response. 

This is a really disingenuous response. I would appreciate an honest, straightforward answer.

And then, the final fuckery:

Just because you don't like the answer does not make it any less of a true response. 



I greatly disagree with the term 'hounded' as for over a year i had simply asked you to come by for a couple hours once a week so we could touch base. Yet, that was almost always to difficult to pull off.

So since you made the assumption your services were not needed based off a single Facebook cover, which i am allowed to do whenever i want, it seemed like a good point to move forward in another direction.

Considering you didn't want to be confrontational, the tone of your messages from the beginning has been off putting and I was choosing not to respond instead of responding a similar manner.

I find the rapidity of the breakdown disappointing, but it is likely best that this is the final communication as far as past services rendered and anything business wise moving forward.

So there you have it. Question for the class: is this a form of gaslighting, or is there a better categorization? I'm guessing it fits, since it's putting all the burden on me.

This is ridiculous

At the beginning of 2011, I created a lofty list of laudable goals. One of those goals was to spend less time on Facebook and more time blogging. 

You may notice that today is November 18, 2012. And that this is also the first blog post since May of 2011. Let's see how the rest of those goals are faring.

1. Less Facebook, more genuine writing. Already discussed. Fail.
2. Take better care of myself. Nope, that one has fallen by the wayside.
3. Throw shit out. I can claim some success here. Not enough, there are still tremendous amounts of stuff in this house to go through, but progress has been made.
4. Get my finances in order. Still a work in progress.
5. Accept things as they are, take things one day at a time. Still a work in progress.
6. Try not to read subtext into every conversation or lack of one. Still filled with fail on this one.
7. Stop the self-deprecating humor. I am getting better at this, I believe. It still wells up like a foul artesian well, but I'm much better at capping the flow.

Seven goals. Only one of which has resulted in measurable success. This is disappointing. No sense whining about it, though. Rending of garments and gnashing of teeth only results in nothing to wear and loose fillings. 

This is horrifying

I haven't written and posted anything since January.

There are reasons and excuses, of course. Life, love and turmoil have gotten in the way.

However, a new era has descended upon the House of Klevabich. A return to a time long forgotten - that of single-hood. Surprised? I was.

In one way or another, I have been entangled in some sort of love affair/relationship/rapture/crush/obsession ever since late 1993. That's just astounding to me, even though I was obviously there the whole time. I shan't go into detail, since it would be unseemly and possibly hurtful to other carbon-based life forms. Just take my word for it.

I'm actually rather excited about this new phase. Which is quite a surprise to me, given the angst and heartburn that have occurred recently.

However, this is the secret of life - adapt or perish. When life hands you lemons, throw them with vigor and scream obscenities. Then, re-evaluate and reconfigure. I've done it more than once, shall probably do it again, and welcome the next phase.

Life is good, my friends. So very good. I wouldn't trade one god-damned moment.

Can anyone explain this?

Over the past couple of years, I've encountered many sorrows. Not whining - no, not at all. Such is the life of the average adult human. Relationships die, relatives die, friendships die. Jobs die, money disappears, circumstances change. Love is lost, love is unrequited, nothing works out quite as we'd like. It's all part of the dance.

Yet through all of this, I've been noticeably free of tears. Not completely free of them - I've cried a bit, now and then, but no big breakdown. I've wondered about this, wondered why I didn't, wouldn't, couldn't, just sit down and sob my eyes out. Rending of garments, gnashing of teeth - all seemed appropriate, yet didn't occur. I figure it's because deep down I've been afraid that once I let go, it would all go spiraling down into a place from where I couldn't save myself. And at times, I'm pretty sure that's been a valid fear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Tonight was the series finale of Medium on CBS. This has been one of my all time favorite TV series since its inception. I don't think there's an episode I haven't seen. I discovered earlier today that tonight was the final episode, and was saddened by it, but after all. It's a god-damned TV show. Not the end of the world.

++++++++++++++++++++

I just finished crying my eyes out. Sobbing. Ugly cry. I already have a cold - now I can't breathe at all. And this wailing started while there was still ten minutes left of the show.

Perhaps it's because I have admired (even though I know it's just a TV program) Allison and Joe DuBois's relationship and wished it was possible to have that sort of love. The sort of love that transcends the passing of years, the bearing of children, the everyday annoyances of life. I've wondered if it was truly possible to keep a relationship alive for years and still have that spark, that lust.

Their middle kid? Bridgette? I've been in love with her for years. Known that if I could have been guaranteed a child such as her, I would have given birth. There have been few children who have inspired that sort of feeling.

So there you have it. How I spent my Friday evening. Maybe this is for the best. Perhaps I need to cry more often, and more vigorously. Gourd knows there are things that make me want to sit down and cry like a little bitch, and maybe it's not healthy to hold that in.

I'd rather have a rhino

So this rhino-virus thing is the shits. Yesterday was my first day back at work after the holiday break, and it about killed me. Of course, part of the problem was that everyone was in first-day-back mode and there was a lot of socializing. Meaning talking. Bringing on a mother of a sore throat. Came home and crashed on the couch for an hour before I could even muster up the strength to open a can of soup. 

Today was much, much better, but I still don't have much in the way of energy. And there are all those resolutions goals to work on. What to do... So far all I've done is catch up on Facebook and evidently piss people off. Oh well. It's what I do best, right?

Also, to me I sound a lot like this woman:

Day Two: Refining

After thinking about this whole adventure, I want to change from using the word "resolution" to using the term  "goal." I think that's where a lot of intentions go wrong right from the start. We make a "resolution" and resolve to embrace a new habit Right. Damn. Now. When, in fact, most of us do better taking baby steps and not trying to change the world overnight.

Example: you "resolve" to start working out every day. Day one goes great. Strong workout, on top of the world. Day two, can't get a babysitter so you miss it. Day three, great workout. Day four, Aunt Ethel's birthday. Day five, everyone from the office is going out right after work, so... Day six, you're busy getting stuff done and returning calls and fixing that leaky faucet and all of a sudden it's bedtime. Day seven, time to go visit the folks. Day eight? What the hell, you've already missed four days, another won't hurt... Day twelve, you're a failure. You've already blown it, why even think about continuing that gym membership.

Setting a goal is different. Your GOAL is to work out more often. Therefore, you miss a few days, you just go back to it, because you haven't failed. The year has just begun, and your GOAL is to work out and get fit. There can't have been a failure, since it's a process and you've just started.
Make sense? OK then, change my resolutions to goals.

And while we're at it, let's add a new goal: less negative self-talk. A little self-deprecating humor is fine, but I take it to a whole new level. Those who know me well probably know exactly what I'm talking about. A little is funny, but I think subconsciously I've been listening to the fat girl comments and taking them to heart. Yes, I'm overweight. Yes, I need to lose. But no, I'm not an ugly cow that no man would ever be interested in. Not true, and I can give you a couple of references if you don't believe me. So enough already.  

Day One: Letting Go

I'm already making progress in this fine year of two-thousand and eleven. Doesn't that sound better than two-thousand and ten? Ten is a hard word. Eleven is softer, more inviting. Plus it's an odd number, which is much more auspicious than an even number. Trust me on this.

Anyway, we were talking progress. After writing these resolutions and committing them to the ether, I turned off the lights and music and sat with candlelight and treelight and contemplated the passing of the old year and entrance of the new. And it occurred to me that what it all boils down to, what I really need to do, is to let go.

Let go of possessions. Let go of expectations. Let go of anger. Let go of a few dreams, even. Just...let go.

This is going to be hard.