Aug 242014
 

When I first started this job, I had only recently figured out that I am gluten intolerant. So I didn’t know any better. Whenever there would be an office party with cake or other floury treat, I would decline and say “No thanks, I’m allergic to wheat.” I felt a brief explanation was a way to be polite, so they wouldn’t feel I was being standoffish.

As it turns out, when you say “I’m allergic to X,” what some people hear is “I feel left out because you’re all eating X and I can’t.” And those people then make it their personal mission to find food that doesn’t contain X, or a restaurant with X-free food, or otherwise bend over backwards to accommodate your allergy.

And I really hate that. I’m a damn grownup, if I feel left out because I can’t eat the food, I’m perfectly capable of getting some food I can eat. If everyone else has a favorite restaurant they like for lunch, I’d prefer they just trust that I will say something if I really have a problem with that place. I don’t want people making a big fuss over where we can go, or trying to find some special kind of treat for the office party that I can eat. I appreciate that they’re trying to be considerate, but after the first few times I tell them it’s not necessary it’s no longer considerate. I want them to go on as normal and leave my dietary considerations to me.

So when I finally do get a new job, I’m not going to mention my stupid food allergies. If I’m offered food with wheat, I’ll decline politely with nothing more than “No, thank you,” because I’ve finally come to realize that an explanation is not required for good manners.

 Posted by at 7:34 pm

I Don’t Like My Job Now

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Aug 192014
 

This is our new girl’s first week (so I guess I have to come up with a new moniker for the one I used to call New Girl). And I’ve been tasked with training her how to do everything, because I’m “so patient.” (People who know me outside of work will be cleaning coffee off their keyboards now.) Basically I get the job because I’m good at being pleasant and easygoing with my co-workers even when I’d rather be bitch-slapping them.

Not that our newest employee needs bitch-slapping. She’s a nice lady, she wants to do a good job and is picking things up quickly. My dislike of the job has nothing to do with her, I just don’t like teaching people. There’s a reason I didn’t go into the teaching curriculum in college. And I also have to go behind and make sure she’s doing it right, and give her feedback, and find work for her to do. I’m almost her manager. I do not want to be a manager.

To make things worse, we really didn’t need her. I think the boss panicked when our second payroll girl left, and thought he needed more staff than he actually does. By Thursday I expect I will have run out of work for her to do. I just hope someone else will have something. On the plus side, that means I only have one more day of training to do.

A recruiter contacted me last week and submitted me for a really juicy contract job. Yeah, it’s a contract job but I’ve had good luck in the past with turning contract jobs into permanent ones. I think I’ll e-mail her tomorrow and see if she’s heard anything more about it. If I wind up giving my two weeks notice, THEN we’ll need the extra staff.

I Think My Uterus Is Winning

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Aug 132014
 

After several days of phone tag, my doctor finally got in touch with me. (While we were talking I gave her my cell number so she can reach me any time now.)

Now the plan is that I will have two iron infusions, a week apart. Then we’ll wait a month and do another hemoglobin count. So we’re looking at surgery in October if all goes well.

I feel like my uterus is fighting back. I’m on the hormone pills to keep me from menstruating, but I’m still spotting—as if my uterus is trying its damnedest to have a period. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if I woke up from the surgery and they told me the damn thing was booby-trapped and killed two people in the operating room.

 Posted by at 7:42 pm  Tagged with:
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