Goodbye, job I hated!

I’m so upset that my last post, wherein I complain about bad grammar, has a pretty big grammar mistake in it. Ugh.

Not that my lengthy absence was due to embarrassment…

Nah. I just hated my job and was too miserable to keep posting. But I have good news now, so here I am.

And what is this news I have? Welp. The position Mike originally wanted me to get opened back up, and I pounced on it. So now I work 2nd shift and have a small team that I interact with every day…and my daily duties vary throughout the week, and I am back into more customer service and problem solving activities rather than doing the same heavy lifting and stocking the same areas by myself day after day after day like some kind of automaton.

I like it SO MUCH BETTER and I see why Mike thought I should do this job…this whole time I’ve been questioning both his and my judgment, and kicking myself for leaving the theatre and ending up in a job that I HATE, but I take all that back now. It was the right choice. Just…the stars weren’t aligned for me to get hired into the right part of the department straight away.

We’re also bringing back a little bit of our favourite discussion topics, since our shifts still overlap some. And thusly, less than a week into my new schedule, my new boss was listening to Mike excitedly telling me about a game he bought, and I am pretty stoked to get a copy too, now that I know it exists…but my new boss waited until after Mike left to start asking me about the game, and I learned that at some point she concluded we were video gaming buddies…

Nope. Naw. Kind of awkward to explain by myself though why we were so enthusiastic about the idea of a board game called “Secret Hitler”.
“See, it all started with this time I helped a girl with her graduate school application…”

My new boss isn’t going to be there most of the time when I work because she’s 1st shift, and my direct supervisor is brand new to being a supervisor…and I’m conflicted about this because on one hand, he’s a really nice person and surprisingly easy to get along with and talk to (considering I generally dislike people), and on the other hand…Wolf me feels like this is a person who could be easily manipulated, and is weighing how useful that could be.

I don’t like that about me. That this really is the sort of thing I find myself thinking…
At the same time though, I think I’m going to be good at this job and I need to make sure I have someone on my side to say good things about me when I have a chance to move up in the department. Because I really don’t want to be the lowest level of employee for a long time…it really sucks and I hate not being able to tell other people what to do and having to myself do whatever anyone else tells me.

So…yeah. That’s where I am right now. And I had a bunch of other thing I was thinking about posting yesterday, but…this morning we woke up to the most earsplitting crack of thunder I’ve ever heard in my life, so I slept poorly and only for about 5-6 hours…and then I went on a short hike to break in my new boots and it was so hot and humid out that I was also sweating more than I would have believed possible, and I was exhausted when I got home even though it was only about 2.5 miles… and then I had a glass of wine and I am pretty sure that I’m experiencing the reason I’m not supposed to drink while on my anxiety meds, because everything feels kind of weird and unreal. So I can’t really focus with all of that going on at once, and that leaves us with this post.

1. I’m still alive.
2. Different job, regarding which I have some vague ambitions.
3. Secret Hitler.
4. I cannot even right now.



same old Reeser stuff


, , , , ,

Brought my unicorn shirt collection up to 12 (at least, I can only think of 12, without going back to flip through the closet). Plus one Sleipnir shirt, which doesn’t quite count because he’s got 8 legs, rather than the spirally horn.

Makes me think back to when we were talking about my (apparently) incompatible interests at the theatre, and Mike wanted to know then how many Nazi shirts I had to balance out the unicorns. 😛

…and by the way, just in case you were concerned that I might’ve left off being a grammar (and spelling) Nazi, I wanted to let you know that I managed to get a sign changed at the hospital. Because it had a spelling error.

A dozen times a day, I have to pass the OR stock and processing areas, and they have a specific room with its own special sign that read “Decontanimation Processing”.



But…who does one even tell? I didn’t know. But I told Mike and Jaimie at lunch. And they didn’t believe it, but I know they looked when they passed by the sign back to their warehouse. And I know they told other people, because it got back to me that the guy in charge of that department was embarrassed by all the people who were giving him a hard time about not using spell check when he ordered the sign for Decontamination.

The sign was fixed in less than a week after I brought it up. After having been wrong for the first seven weeks I worked there.

You’re welcome, hospital.

Now I just need to discreetly reword the sign on our department’s break room refrigerator. Right now, it reads: “Taking food from this fridge, which does not belong to you is theft.”

It should say “Taking food that isn’t yours from this fridge is theft.” It’s current form indicates more that the fridge is what isn’t yours, not the food you took…and then it’s still wrong because there should be another comma after the phrase “which does not belong to you”. (Although after re-reading this post, my corrected version still reads poorly, so really it should just say “Taking food that isn’t yours is theft.” The fridge doesn’t figure into the truth of that, and the syntax is better.)

I sit with my back to the fridge so I don’t have to see this terrible sign. (Which I was also disappointed to learn was made up by our department head.)

…I apologise to everyone for the poor usage in all of my posts. But that’s always been my point–I spent extra time and money to learn how best to follow the rules so that I can use them when I need to be professional or formal, therefore I have permission to disregard them in informal situations. Like my entire online existence.

(Oh, and I still only have one grammar Nazi shirt. Just the one.)

people are whining about books on Facebook again…


, , , , , , ,

Ever read so many articles where people are either praising or denigrating a book, and gotten exasperated and decided you will simply have to read it yourself? I have.

Not with Twilight, although I read the first one and a half because my sisters were so insistent…and not Fifty Shades of Grey, because a lot of the articles I read about it–whether positive or negative–mentioned the poor writing, and I believe my life is too short to waste on that… but I did decide I needed to read The Handmaiden’s Tale. Because when a television show is made, then people start to care about the book at least a little bit. And they care enough that my Facebook feed had been peppered with people sharing articles about how the book is super “relevant in Trump’s America”, or (in direct response to those articles) how people are being utterly ridiculous and the present is safer than any time that came before for women, blah blah blah…

So fine. I must read the book is I want to know one way or another, right? And…it’s been a good read so far. I’ll probably finish it up in a day or two. But really, it isn’t as traumatizing as any of the articles I read made it out to be. Maybe someone else would think that…especially if all they knew was what was printed in these articles. I get that. But…the main character genuinely doesn’t seem traumatized in the way these articles made her out to be. Not angry. Not depressed. Not horrified, really. And I don’t think that a lot of the people who are going to either be praising OR denouncing the book are the sort who will understand the more delicate horrors of isolation and detachment…boredom…monotony–the only factor of the book that is ridiculous or abominable to them is the part about sex, and they can’t get past that to see what is actually upsetting for all of the characters in the book (as far as I can tell).

It’s my opinion that the articles I’ve read on both sides have been misleading about this book, but I don’t regret reading it. Atwood is a good writer and good writing is always pleasant to read, even when the subject matter is grim.

…and on that note, if one wants to be upset about a book because it is both ridiculous and relevant to today, they should pick up Oryx and Crake instead. Same author. So much more disturbing.

And then…you know…other disturbing books, just for funsies.
Plague Dogs (humans destroy animals)
All Quiet on the Western Front (humans destroy humans)
The Conspiracy Against The Human Race (humans experience consciousness of destruction)

Those are the most overall upsetting books in my collection. And I suppose that maybe The Handmaiden’s Tale falls somewhere between the destruction of human by human, and the general awareness of destruction as a thing at all…but…the story (so far) is told so methodically that it’s difficult to feel upset by reading it.

Not that this was the point of anything I’d read about it that motivated me to pick the book up. No. I can’t agree with either side still though. Because I do think it’s absurd to worry that this plot is what our current society is, in fact, running towards. But I also see that parts of it are relevant to us, but only because we are unhappy people in this country (and this world), and all books are modeled on an unhappy world with unhappy people in it. *shrugs*

I had other things to say today, about work and anxiety and doom metal and the weather (there were snowflakes today–snowflakes!), but this is all I really have time for atm.




, , , , ,

I keep thinking more and more that maybe I should try medication for anxiety.

Because of things like this, which happen too regularly for me to not be concerned…

*walking at the park, not in the wooded area where I usually walk, but on the path that goes through a field. A very flat field, which has been cut recently. It’s too early in the spring for the plants to have started growing tall again. In a few areas, there little clusters of trees.*

*Looking around at all of this…feeling uneasy…the trees are awfully far away…*

Wolf: Hey…
Me: ?
Wolf: Let’s not walk here anymore.
Me: Omg.
Wolf: No, hear me out–what if a crazy person comes to the park, right?
Me: No.
Wolf: This is literally the worst place to be walking.
Me: It’s fine. I like walking here.
Wolf: …
Me: …
Wolf: There’s no cover.
Me: OMG, why are you this way?!
Wolf: Probably because of that time we came here and listened to the people at the farm shoot 200+ rounds.
Me: You don’t like walking in cliff areas because you think we’ll fall to our death.
Wolf: It IS possible, you know.
Me: And when we walk in the woods you’re always looking to see if there are trees around that we could get up into.
Wolf: Because…you know…bears?
Me: No. No bears.
Wolf: Okay, yeah. Bears are unlikely. But not crazy people.
Me: If you were not me, this is the part where I’d give you a shake and tell you that you are a crazy person.
Wolf: …
Me: …
Wolf: There’s a drainage ditch close to the path here. One could hide out in there.
Me: I hate you.

And I know I’m making this out to be a little more lighthearted than it is…because it’s hard to really convey in one post both my thought process and the feeling of agitation I had at the time. I don’t know what the deal is. Maybe all that stupid “run/hide/fight” stuff they had us do in training at the theatre, in case we ever had an active shooter situation. But when I add in the bit about falling off a cliff, that doesn’t really fit in with that theory. I don’t know.

I don’t know what to do with myself.

On an unrelated subject…there is someone at work who’s on the “environmental services” team (a fancy way of talking about the people who do all the cleaning/garbage), and we talked a little bit when I was lost during my first two weeks at the hospital…and so now we always say hello to each other and he always has something nice or encouraging to say…but we’ve never introduced ourselves? Like…how does one address that? Online it’s fine to never introduce yourself by name because your screen name can BE your name…but in real life? It’s weird. And I know we wear nametags, but tbh, the names are TINY and I’d have to get super close to read it.

I dunno. I feel like I should introduce myself? But I feel weird about it. *conflicted*

…gotta go to bed now.

dreams – i win one, i lose one


, , , , , ,

As much as I want to continue the series of posts detailing why I spend every morning repeating a mantra of “I’m so unhappy” and “you suck at everything you do” and “everyone thinks you’re worthless”…Imma post something lighter instead. About dreams I’ve had.

I have so few anymore…they’re like unicorns. (Huh. Rhinos are so endangered at this point that they’re basically unicorns…………………anyway, not the train of thought I want to pursue right now.)

So, the dream where I lose is the one with the unicorn, unfortunately.

In that dream, I was having a hard time because the point of view was really weird, even by my standards. I “saw” the action of the dream through an outside point of view…but the character it followed, while not being me, was intensely aware that this was a dream, and was also adamant that he was me.

I’ve possessed characters in dreams, and I’ve had other dream entities be aware of me existing inside a character in a dream…and I’ve sort of…left possession of characters and watched their confusion after I’ve left them…but I’ve never been outside of a dream character who knew he was in a dream, or who had that kind of awareness of me as the person dreaming.

It was very disorienting.

In the dream though, this character was having a really heated argument about his being drafted into the military. He was trying really hard to convince another person being drafted that neither of them actually could be drafted because nothing was real. It was all happening in a dream, and besides…he was me, so even in waking life, this situation was toward the bottom of his list of worries.

The person he was arguing with was being very patient and listening to all of this nonsense, but his whole response consisted mostly of telling my character that he couldn’t get out of it by pretending to be crazy because they’d find out he was pretending and he’d either get sent off anyway or go to jail. And so my character got very broody and stopped talking to anyone else in the dream world so he could focus on how to prove it wasn’t real…

I had the sense that things skipped ahead in time a bit then, because the next thing I know, the guy who listened to the “we’re trapped in a dream” theory was still trying to be nice and invited my character to join a group of people for a night out before everyone got sent away. In a rather un-me like move, he decides to go.

Skipping ahead a little more, the dream took us all to a tattoo parlour, where everyone is drunkenly choosing tattoos to remind them of this or that or just because…and then there’s the “me” character, who is not drunk (which is a pretty me thing to be), and who is practically shaking with rage that the dream hasn’t ended and that he hasn’t been able to prove that none of it is real…but fine. Fine. He knows what he knows, man. And he’s getting a tattoo to remind him of the way things really are and won’t let any of his friends dissuade him.

…it’s a tattoo of a unicorn with a rainbowy mane and tail. Because he knows that he’s me.

The whole sequence was as if Wolf-me had been crystallized into his own, separate entity, but still knew that I was there. It was super creepy.

I felt like that dream was distinctly not in my favour, so yeah. That one was the loss.

The win dream was from last night though. And I really was me, which came as a surprise.

In this dream, it’s winter and I park my car at the mall where my original theatre is. And as I’m walking away, I hear the sound of metal on metal, and I look to see that an older man has smashed his car into mine. His car is fine, but Erika is crushed. Almost like my previous car when I got into the accident two years ago.

So the man and his wife and two little kids get out of the car and start hurrying away. I run to catch up with them and he doesn’t respond or even look at me when I’m like, “Hey..! HEY! You just smashed my car!” I catch up with him and he still ignores me. I grab his coat sleeve and he jerks his arm away and says that they’re late for a movie.

I try to ask him for his insurance info or a phone number or something, but he just keeps power walking away. The rest of the family don’t even look at me,

So…I’m pissed. But I go my own way and for whatever reason, I actually do live in an apartment above the theatre (which I always joked about when I worked there and crew kept saying it was like I never left). I decide to run a shower, but as I’m showering, I keep getting angrier and angrier and pacing in the shower (which is absurdly huge…like it’s own room) until the water gets cold. So I get out and dressed and decide to get revenge.

I grab my keys and go out to the guy’s car and start raking my keys along the doors and hood. And then…Wolf me makes his appearance and decides that random destruction isn’t good enough. It needs something to give it meaning.

So what does he do? Carves a giant swastika into the area near the gas tank. (Ugh, Wolf-me…why are you like this??? -_-“)

At that point, the old man comes out (short movie, I guess) and starts shouting at me. And I remind him that HE WRECKED MY CAR! And he starts laughing. And asks what I’m gonna do about it. And this old man starts making fun of me…so I punch him in the nose and he goes down hard on the ice.


You know, as I’m retelling this dream…it sounds pretty bad. Maybe this one isn’t actually a win, eh? If I am punching an old man in front of his grandkids and, you know, incorporating Nazi imagery into my revenge plots…


It was pretty satisfying to punch that guy though. I mean…even if she is ungrateful and tries to kill me sometimes, I try to take care of my car. Poor Erika.

So those are the kinds of dreams I’m having these days. Not creepy in a straight-up creepy way like when I used to have dreams about being eaten by sentient fungi or about being trapped on a longboat that was gliding into eternity (which is a glacier, if course) and realizing that we’re all dead…

Just creepy because I don’t like the idea of Wolf-me and I being separated, or because I don’t approve of my behavior in the dream with the car.

But I’ll take these dreams over none at all. For sure.



, , , , , ,

I wouldn’t normally be awake this early on Saturday, buuuuuuuut I’m “on call” every Saturday this month. Plus every Saturday in July and December. Which means waking up at 4am just in case someone else calls off…because I am 100% certain that I will NOT be able to make it to the hospital in time if they call me at 6 and I am not already out of bed. Definitely not.

But it looks like I’m not gonna be needed today, so…yay because I’m still getting paid. But still…boo because I slept really badly last night and I feel pretty exhausted. But what’s the point in even trying to go back to bed when Jester is going to be getting up in an hour anyway? It’ll just wake me up all over again. If I even managed to fall back asleep by then.

So here I am, clarifying my complaints about how the new job turned out. This time, I said we’d talk about uniforms, and so we shall.

My uniform now is a set of light blue scrubs. Fine. That makes sense. After all, they’re pretty standard for all hospital personnel. Unless you work in a department that has zero patient contact, like HR or accounting or something along those lines. Still…I hate them.

Some of my reasons are petty and I could probably get over them. Like the fact that blue is not a good colour for me. Especially light blues, as they make my skin look really pink, and I am not a fan of pink, alive-looking me.
Also…I never thought I would miss the theatre issued wool pants, but I REALLY do. It’s freaking COLD outside. Snowing, in fact, and here I am, waiting for the shuttle in the dark, broken-glass lot and shivering in my thin, jammie-like blue scrubs. It’s intolerable.

I might be more grateful when it gets hot out, but we’ll see.

Lastly…there’s the problem which is not so petty or seasonal, and which pisses me off on a daily basis: the scrubs issued by the hospital do not fit me. They don’t.

I was originally given mediums, but the shirt was like a tent and could have fit two of me, and the pants…well…the pants are like the scrub version of gauchos. They are too big and too long…but the pants are all elastic waisted, and the next smaller size’s waistband doesn’t stretch far enough to come up over my hips, so I’m stuck with the ballooning size that, while I can get them over my hips, are so long that the waistband has to be pulled up all the way to my ribs (NOT my natural waist, but a bit above that) because I can’t roll the bottoms up due to the pants being tapered in the leg.

The whole pants situation makes me so fucking mad. I found some of a slightly different style at the hospital, where they have drawstring waists instead of elastic, but again…they’re too long for me and I can’t roll them up, but in this case I could also not pull the pants up high enough to get them off the ground…I lose no matter what I do, it seems.

And then the shirts are stupid, too…I got a smaller one, but again it still doesn’t fit. It has the bizarre quality of being really big and loose in the shoulders and chest, but also really long (despite being the small size), but not loose enough at the waist to fit down over my hips. I can force it down, but it doesn’t stay put because of all the moving around I do when stocking, and instead keeps creeping back up and making the upper part of the shirt more and more baggy and shifty, and with my badge weighting one side of the hugely V’d collar, sometimes I end up rocking the almost-off-the-shoulder look, which is a huge violation of company policy (our wardrobe guidelines for off-duty employees who are coming to/leaving/visiting the hospital are pretty strict…heaven forbid any employee EVER be caught with bare shoulders).

So the shirts suck, too.
I’ve spent a LOT of time reading and checking sizes and reviews of different scrub sets on Amazon, and I finally ordered some yesterday. It would suck for ne to have to buy all my own uniforms, but I really hope they fit okay. And also that they’re a match for our department’s designated shade of blue. As much as I don’t want to spend a huge amount of money on work jammies, I also hate going in every day wearing clothes that very obviously don’t fit me.

Then there’s the shoe problem. It’s less of a problem now, but this past month has been a nightmare for my feet.

See, back when I had that week off between when I left the theatre and when I started at the hospital, my intention was to break n my new shoes. But I couldn’t because I fucking sprained my ankle at the last moment. *rage*

So I spent my first two weeks at the hospital with brand-new shoes that weren’t broken in AND my ankle brace. (Have I mentioned that I have severe bunions?)

It was the wooooooooorrrrrst!

I’d end up taking my shoes off every lunch and then again when I’d be sitting in traffic on the way home. My feet were screaming. And also, so was I in one particularly bad day where traffic was moving just enough so that I couldn’t get my shoes off, but hadn’t been in enough pain to take them off before I started driving… it was horrible. They haven’t been as bad the last week or so, but they’re still not super comfy shoes that I *enjoy* wearing around…

I also don’t know what to think because I can’t really hear myself walk in them. I am kind of harsh to the heels of my shoes because I have a heel-to-toe step, and I like being able to hear my steps…but I guess that’s not a thing with actual running/walking shoes. They’re supposed to be soft and lightweight, which means they don’t make much noise. Fine for working in a hospital, I guess. Also fine for my ninja-ing from one place to another. I’m just really unaccustomed to it.

Also not accustomed to having no slip protection. I stepped in water the other day and am pretty sure I could have died. *shrugs* Who knows?

Anyway, I am not pleased with the whole uniform front, but if the ones I ordered yesterday are suitable, then at least I can slowly start getting more to replace the ones from the hospital. They should get here by next weekend, so I’ll know soon.

Next time, we’ll talk about Wolf me’s snobiness…

i can’t wait for teleportation


, , ,

Alright…so when I accepted the job, I didn’t know about the parking situation. Which is that there isn’t parking at the hospital.

The only way you get to park in the garages or lots directly beside the hospital is if you’re a physician or are fairly high ranking in your department. Or if you have yeeeeeears of seniority.

The rest of us get to park at lots that are leased by the hospital. Sketchy lots. Filled with broken glass and weeds. Surrounded by houses with the windows boarded up or with the glass broken out so that the sheets pinned up by long-gone residents trail out over the loose roof shingles that cover the houses in place of siding.

It’s a poor neighborhood, and I don’t hold that against them…really. But it’s unbelievable to me that the original builders of the hospital thought that it would “revitalize” the neighborhood. Um. Nope. That did not happen, as far as I can tell.

Also it upsets me on a personal level because the neighborhood is filled with brick 1930s houses that are the same style as the one I grew up in…it’s like driving through a ruined version of my childhood every day. I think a lot about a Thomas Ligotti story about a character who works at a library early in the mornings and takes a bus through a similar neighborhood…that story’s so good, but this was never a way I imagined myself engaging with it…

And then once one gets to the sketchy lot, one must wait for the shuttle to pick us up. And I COULD be wrong, but for a company that has over 11,000 employees, shuttling us to and from the main hospital in groups of 14 seems very inefficient. But this is the way it is.

If you miss the shuttle, or if there aren’t enough seats, you could be waiting up to 20 minutes for the next one. And then you have to drive back to the hospital, which for me takes literally 5 minutes, but for the shuttle drivers, it somehow takes 15.

So I HAVE to get there a minimum of 30 minutes early, and make sure I get a spot on that shuttle JUST SO I CAN BE ON TIME. This is, of course, the only reason I can think of to explain away Jester’s claim that almost every night, at some point I sit bolt-upright and look around in a panic before lying back down and being immediately asleep.

Because I’m terrified of being late again and getting fired, so sub-conscious me wakes up just to check that it’s not time to leave yet. And of course we wake up now at 4am to be there at 7, so I can’t even judge the time based on whether it is dark out or whether I hear birds outside, because at 4am the birds aren’t usually that loud yet and also it’s still actually nighttime out…

So that is my morning now, but my commute troubles don’t end there. Getting home makes me want to claw my eyes out because it’s so stupid.

After I clock out, I sit outside and wait for 15-20 minutes. Then we have a 15-20 minute ride to the broken down lot. All the while, I am just hoping and hoping that I’m being paranoid when I keep thinking that I didn’t lock the car and I’ll get there just to find out that Erika’s been car-napped and that I have no way home from the bad neighborhood…one time I couldn’t park in the side of the lot I usually park in, and I did get super upset because I couldn’t find my car and walked around for maybe a whole two minutes before I spotted her.

It was a terrifying two minutes…

So once I’m finally IN the car, it is already busy on the roads downtown, so it takes me a minimum of 50 minutes to get home, when it is a 25 minute drive between our apartment and the hospital when there isn’t traffic.


I can get to my parents house within 20 minutes from the hospital though, even when I leave in the middle of rush hour. So I go see them more often now if I already know Jester will still be at work for a while. No reason for me to try and get home if there’s nobody even there.

So, yeah…that has so far been one of the most frustrating things that isn’t directly related to my job but is still having a huge impact on my daily routines. I’ve tried taking a different route, but the problem I have with that is that it’s on city streets where I have to keep stopping for traffic lights and busses, so I end up taking almost just as long…but without people doing all the dangerous things they try to do on the highway when there is traffic.

Can’t win no matter what I do, I guess.

Next episode, we’ll talk uniforms…………..

i cannot even


, ,

Okay, so I’ve been gone for a minute.

I’ve been pretty miserable, tbh. Switching to a completely different job in a different industry and a different setting and on a 100% set schedule and where I only know ONE person there has been a lot harder than I anticipated.

And also…Wolf me.

I really like this me. He has good qualities. For instance, confidence…determination. Also, the ability to come up with quick, clever things to say.

On the other hand, I hate him because that me is a snob. And also unreasonable. And (as we have known for a long time) easily enraged by stuff that shouldn’t be a big deal.

(I note that this makes me seem like I must have an altogether different idea of what I am actually like, since I’m giving all these qualities to “another” me…just…instead of confidence and determination, think something along the lines of a me that is too terrified to try, or who is easily discouraged…the me who cannot think of a single thing to contribute and who is just getting more and more anxious about being so conspicuously silent in a conversation…the me who defers to everyone because it suddenly doesn’t know anything and everyone else’s opinions are waaaay better…and who instead of getting angry, just dissolves into tears. And cannot even.

Which is what happened this morning when I got my first EVER disciplinary warning. For being late.

Ugh. Today was awful. The two mes couldn’t figure out what to do…rage at circumstances that led to the incident, or panic because it’s already skipped ahead to where I am getting fired…

I can’t even decide how to tell a coherent story of my new job and why I’ve been gone…but I think that over the next week or so, I will try to tell it in pieces…all about Jester’s claims that I wake up EVERY NIGHT in a panic, my very near ragequit, the Code Blues, the texts I am getting asking me to come back to the theatre, aaaand all the small things that are contributing to my general unhappiness, like traffic, sketchy parking, hurty shoes, my ex’s mom…etc. And also a lot of Nachtmahr…


had a meltdown and embarrassed myself…


, , , , , , , , , ,

Omg. So…I had to have blood drawn as part of my onboarding, so they can check that I’ve got all the proper vaccinations/immunities…

It was horrible.

I had a meltdown and the nurse kept asking me if I was sure I really wanted to do it (of course not!)…but I couldn’t embarrass myself and withdraw my application and take back my notice at the theatre because of bloodwork…

Tbh, I’d rather die than have bloodwork done. But I’d also rather die than lose face with all the theatre people who I already told I was quitting…not to mention my family and friends.

Of course, I held the nurse up for a long time with all my nonsense, so I felt bad about that. And about having such an intense panic attack in the first place…they wouldn’t let me leave the employee health office for a while…I sat around for 15-20 min, sipping apple juice and eating pretzels because they were worried about me passing out…

I finally made my way back to the HR office and got my paperwork finished up…and then the HR secretary said the nurse called her to make sure they didn’t let me leave right away and kept an eye on me for a little while…UGH.

I’m soorrrrrrry I’m such a baby. -_____-”

But I have the job, so that’s great. And also intensely terrifying. I don’t know anything but work at the theatre. And…I spend about 1/3 of my waking hours with those people…now I’ll have to meet new people to talk to.  😦

Dunno. I’m just worried about dumb stuff now. Like what if I’m not good at it? Or…an important one that my Wolf and I were struck with when I had that meltdown: hospitals terrify us. Wtf are we doing, trying to work in one? x_x

Here’s hoping that I can be desensitized.

I will miss seeing the nighttime though. I’ll miss it a lot. But…I hope that all the other good things will outweigh my not seeing the dark as much. We’ll see…

*looooooooong sigh*

So, some media I’ve been into lately, because at least that’s not terrifying.

Making my way through American Horror Story: Hotel It’s not so bad, but that season took a bit longer to build up than Freak Show did…I think there are a few plot lines that could stand to be snipped off, but I still have about a third of the episodes left to watch. We’ll see where it goes.

Read a book called Playing with Fire by Tess Gerritsen. Based on the book description, I was thinking that it would be about possessed music or evil musicians…the plot is built up around a piece of music titled Incendio… Plot twist: Incendio was titled after Holocaust crematoriums.

Me, Reading: Like…wth? Is this even for real? 😐

I didn’t hate the book…I thought she tied things together alright, but parts of it were a little too contrived, and…given I didn’t know that the plot was going to go the way it did, I’m a little concerned. I’ve encountered a few books over my reading this past year that seem to belong to a genre where the author wants to tell one story, but ends up telling a different one alongside it…and it doesn’t quite work out for the best, in my opinion.

I talk about the band Rome kind of a lot, considering. I’ve finally managed to get into a few of their albums that I flat-out did NOT like when I started listening to their music…there was a 3 part series of albums they did called Die Aesthetik der Herrschaftsfreiheit…and the songs are…I don’t know. They’re better listened to in context of the rest of the album, I guess. There are a lot of spoken parts in these ones too, which might account for part of my preference of listening in one go…better cohesiveness.

I’ve been liking the Aufruhr one best, and I figured I’d share a piece of it before I go to bed. One of the bits that can be listened to apart from the rest of the music.

I also feel like for whatever reason, this album series makes me feel calmer…maybe those spoken interludes are good for something, eh?



, , , , ,

I put in my notice today.

And I embarrassed myself by tearing up when I gave my boss the letter.

Aaaaand further embarrassed myself by having a panic attack while driving home (because driving is the best time to have those).

Now I have to get used to waking up before dawn, I guess…but at least I’ll have some time in between my last day at the theatre and my first day at the hospital wherein I can try to make that transition.

Anyway…this antibiotic is helping, I think…or doing something at least…the amount of mucus coming out of my nose (and my eye, unfortunately) is pretty disgusting. But I am starting to get normal hearing back in my left ear, so I guess I’ll take it.

Gonna watch some AHS and eat a bite before bed. Hopefully I will feel less anxious so I can actually fall asleep…