It's a long shot

The Dad called me on Friday.  Not unusual, I typically hear from him a couple of times a week, and always free of the "how are you" and "how are the kids" questions most normal people ask.  The Dad, not your average father figure.  We never really had a great relationship, not until I entered my early 20's.  See, we're just far too much alike.  Type A.  Riddled with bottled up emotion.  Growing up in my parents house was kind of like living in a mine field.  It was just a question of which one of us was going explode first.  Fun times!  But hey, we're both old now, and get along far better than we used to.  The Dad Issues are a subject for another time.  Maybe.  Some things are better left unsaid.

The Dad has worked for the same manufacturing company for almost 34 years, alongside my grandfather until his retirement, and my uncle.  It's a family owned company, and they love hiring within families.  So long as the family members all work on "the floor" or "in the office", never, ever mixing the two. 

Luck has it that one of the "girls" in the office has retired, and they are looking to replace her.  The Dad has been getting to work, putting the bug in the important people's ears, that I would be a great replacement.  And I would.  I've been around this company for most of my life.  I know the products, the environment and 3/4 of the workforce.  And I know how an office works.  Great company, great benefits and complete job security.  But there's that one thing that keeps clouding a potentially great opportunity.

I've got two family members on the floor.  And I'd be in the office.

So, I won't get my hopes up, but it's a chance at something secure and familiar.  The biggest hurdle is getting the opportunity to be considered.  Fears of conflict of interest are the furthest from my mind.  I know me.  I know my work ethic. 

But, it's still a long shot.

Asshats 'R Us

I would do a week in review, but that is kind of pointless.  It wasn't a good week, I know I applied for at least 3 jobs, but didn't jot them down.  I'm starting to think keeping track is a wasted effort and only serves as a reminder that no one wants to acknowledge me, let alone hire me.  Since the DOL requires (and rightfully so) that I keep track of my wasted efforts, I'll have to scrub my email and document them in my spreadsheet.  Eventually.  Maybe next week.  Maybe.

I may not have had any calls this week about any of the jobs I have applied for thus far, but this week was a huge learning experience for me.  I learned a bit more about people in general, and that horrible people just don't show up in news stories at 6:00.  I learned first hand just how cruel and ignorant people can be, but I also learned how much I truly appreciate the people in my life that genuinely care about me.

See, the D.I.N.K, who will now be Douchey McDouchebag, or D. McD because I'm too lazy to type that out every time, lived up to both monikers.  And will never make another appearance in this blog again.  Ever.  The things he said to me over the weekend are inexcusable.  His wife, Annette, will also be making her final curtain call here, for allowing her husband to speak to a "friend" the way that he did.  Both are no longer a part of my life, for the simple reason that I have enough issues to deal with than to allow people like them to add to the list.

It started a week ago, when I received a text message from Annette, stating that where (which remains a mystery) D. McD. was hired two weeks prior is looking to hire more people.  I didn't have much information regarding the job, let alone where it was.  I received her text an hour and a half after she sent it, because my phone is a total piece of $#!+...I'm forever missing calls and texts.  Extremely frustrating to say the least, and makes me wonder how many prospective employers have called me.  Wishful thinking?  Anyway, her text instructed me to call D. McD., because he allegedly called me and I hung up on him.  For the record, I received no call whatsoever,  confirmed by my cell bill.  Just so happens that I am still fighting this spring cold, and the day of the alleged hang up I had no voice.  Zero.  The best I could muster all day was a few squeaks.  So, I sent him a message, told him my condition and would appreciate it if he could send the information to me so I could get the ball rolling.  I got a reply, sort of... "phone job.  $9-$16 per hour.  Call when you're feeling better.  Can't work that way anyway".  I still had no idea where this job was.  I would ask more questions (benefits??  Salary range is based on what??), and get basic replies, but not much more than that.  Then, nothing....

Crickets.

So, I put another message out there:  who should I contact?  Where do I send my resume?

Crickets.

And, yet another message...Let me know when the best time to talk for you is...mine is....

Crickets.

This went on over the course of 3 days.  D. McD. could not be bothered to respond to me, and I wondered why someone who thought of me when their new employer was hiring would then go through so much trouble to ignore me.  I wasn't asking him to talk to anyone on my behalf, tweak my resume or fill out the application for me.  I just needed more information about the job.  Saturday, I reached my frustration point.  I sent another message in which I told D. McD. that while I appreciated the fact that he thought of me (knowing how much of a struggle it has been for me to find work), I did not appreciate being ignored.  I have enough issues to deal with...but thanks anyway.  What I got back (finally, a reply), just a little more than an hour later, was just the beginning of a hurtful and insulting tirade. 

D. McD. accused me of causing drama, because I simply cannot deal with anyone who has gotten a job or God forbid works for the company, and have been nothing but mean and rude to them.  Now, I know he doesn't read this blog, there's really no way he could know about it, but honestly?  I have oodles of people that I know that have either recently rejoined the workforce or still work for the company.  I've never been mean or rude to any of them.  Unless they deserved it (Shrek), and seriously?  He hates her too.  So whatever.  Asshat.  But it didn't stop there.  His sensationalized generalizations kept on coming:

I blew him off because of my voice.
I don't take responsibility for my problems, I blame everyone else for them. 
My life is a soap opera. 
I don't have a job because I didn't scour craigs.list, like he did, and was too lazy to look up the job description on my own.
I push every one away, and prefer hiding at home and blowing people off.

Now, I do agree with one thing he said...I do tend to push people away.  Depression does that.  Shirley never wants people at the party.  Ever.  But everything else?  Well, that is all part of his "high and mighty-my $#!+ don't stink-I know everything" mentality. 

I never blamed anybody for my condition, I know why I am like this.  I do blame certain people for taking advantage of my condition to further their own agenda, and in turn exasperating my situation, but it's not like I run around advertising the fact that I got screwed over because of it.  I legally can't. 

And honestly?  Who would watch a soap opera about someone who rarely ever leaves their house?  Or rarely talks to anyone? 

And have you looked at job postings on craigs.list?  I've checked them out, but it's not exactly user friendly and honestly?  Some of them are kind of sketchy....if you can't list your company name in the ad, then I can't take the chance that you will have ALL of my personal information at your disposal.  I am anxiety laden, after all.  And I have kids to keep safe.  I have a few trustworthy sites that I use (including one run by the DOL), and I will stick with that.  I don't have the flexibility of applying for just anything.  I am our best chance of securing health insurance, so desperately needed with 3 disabled people under one roof.  My employment doesn't secure the ability to once again get manicures weekly and to finally be able to plan that annual trip to Vegas.  It secures survival.  Besides, he reached out to me, and now I'm lazy for not looking it up on my own with nearly zero information...can you say needle in a haystack?  And for the record, our work history and experience is completely different.  I worked in insurance for over 13 years.  He worked for a garden center and at a glorified recycling center.  It's not like we'd be using the same search terms.  Again, ASSHAT.

So, there you have it.  D. Mc.D, the D.I.N.K, is well, a douche and a dink.  Preying on the emotionally destroyed and thriving on breaking them more than they already are to help him feel better about his own insecurities.  Revelling in the pain of others, dangling carrots and pulling them away to enjoy the inevitable crushing sound of their souls.  I was actually excited that there was an opportunity, but never anticipated the mind games orchestrated by a very sick, twisted individual.

I don't need people in my life that enjoy my pain and suffering, and when they don't get to experience it for a few months, create situations to watch the crazy unfold again to satisy some sick fantasy.  And I certainly don't need their wives, allowing this to happen.  I suspect now that the "glowing reference" that was given to the HR person who stood me up (and have yet to hear from to this day), was in fact, not so glowing.  I have very strong feelings that it was quite the opposite, and I was very much lied to.  So, buh-bye to Annette too.  I lost one suspicious reference, and gained two very trustworthy and honest ones.

I have all the people I need in my life that love and support me, no matter how crazy I may get.  Why?  Because they care about me.  They care about my family. 

The rest were left at the side of the road on Monday morning.

Week in Review 3.28 - 4.3, and the reason I hate Shrek

Another 8 apps in for the week, no calls or emails on any of my other prospects, and the grim reality is that unemployment is winning, duh.

It was a bad week.  A.very.bad.week.  My biggest fear is that the further I fall down, the harder it is to pick myself back up again.  The realization that falling further down, then picking myself up again doesn't elevate me to where I once was or where I know I should be, just a little further up (or down, if you will) the rung of depression.  A two steps downward, one step up situation of sorts.  And lately?  Well, those "reminders" just keep popping up, so the two steps downward have increased to four, and the one step up?  Yeah, not happening.  I'm starting to feel more consumed by Shirley...the vicious bitch just won't leave me alone.

At this point in my mind dump, I'd like to take the opportunity to share my disdain for Shrek.  No, not the hilarious green ogre, but a former co-"worker", whom many people I know with a shared acknowledgment of her existence also refer to her as.  Behind her back, of course.  Seriously, any chick with a nickname of Shrek?  Yeah, you wouldn't say it to her face either.  Picture this:

Ignore the green skin and protruding ears.  The rest?  Not too far off.  Seriously, I can't make this shit up.  Add in ill-fitting tops (so as to expose not only bra straps, but actual cuppage.  Like, C-U-P-S.  Not kidding.), foot odor that can be detected clear across an office, and voila!  Instant ogre.  I'd like to think they took some ideas from her for Princess Fiona, but sadly, Fiona is a supermodel compared to Liza*.

See, Shrek, er, Liza, and I were friends.  We met while working in a different area of the company only to find out that we had a history.  Well, she knew we had a history, and filled in the details for me.  Seems way back in high school, when my then boyfriend (and future ex-husband) decided it would be more fun to spend time with his ex-girlfriend without my knowledge, Liza knew about me.  The ex-girlfriend told Liza that I was fooling around with her boyfriend.  Clearly misinformed.  So Liza, like any good little ogre, decided that one day, while spotting me in a parking lot of a grocery store, she would exact revenge for her "wronged" friend.  Although the act was never committed, I was told many years later, that she had me in her sights, and had planned to "run me down" with her car.  Yeah, nice ogre.  We laughed about it because hey, obviously the ex-girlfriend was delusional.

Fast forward 3 years:  Liza is now working with D.I.N.K's wife (who shall be referred to as "Annette" from this point forward) and I in the sales office.  It's at this time that I find out that Liza and Pammy are pretty chummy...awkward being an employee who's boss is friends with one of your co-workers.  Even more awkward is finally realizing that after all the years that I thought I knew Liza, I didn't really know her.  Work ethic?  Who needs one.  Stroll in when she felt like it?  You bet!  Leave when she felt like it?  Why not, who's going to tell her otherwise.  Liza was one of "those" employees.  Personal phone calls were not only frequent, as in every.hour.on.the.hour, but LOUD.  She was one of the loudest people I had ever heard on the phone.  If you didn't know what was going on in Liza's personal life, well, you were either really sick and called out or on vacation. No less than 3 times per week, Liza's husband would bring in her children so they could have lunch together.  Sweet, yes.  Annoying?  Absolutely.  See, it's not so much the family time that annoyed me as was letting the kids run around the office for an hour.  Screeching.  Running.  Distracting.  Did Pammy or Candie ever say anything to Liza?  Nope.  Despite taking an hour plus for lunch, then bringing her Shreklets to the office to unleash their terror for another hour, not one word was ever said to her.  Encouragement like this is exactly what someone like her doesn't need.  And makes what those two "managers" did to me even harder to swallow.

When Mem died, and I lost my marbles, Liza would frequently park her behind on my desktop (um, yeah) and check in with me.  Liza knew something wasn't right with me, and I appreciated her concern.  I am genuinely a nice person, until you piss me off.  And wouldn't you know it...Liza pissed me off.  Liza is one of those people who "knows" everyone and must attend every funeral.  So, someone she "knows" passes away and she's taking yet another day off.  Not really of any concern to me, she didn't support me in any way as far as work was concerned, but it's the words and actions that followed that were troubling.  Suddenly, the recently deceased was "like a mother" to her (although I had never heard her mention this person once in all the years I've known her), and she's having a difficult time processing her death.  Picture this:  sitting in my office, completely out of my mind and struggling to cope with the micro-"management" that has been instituted on my desk and having this:

 telling me what's happening...to me.  But to her.  WTF???  I just sat there, stunned, mouth gaping like a stuffed bass.  As if this wasn't shocking enough to me, she pops in two days later and parks her rump on my desk, again, to give me an "update".  Her Doctor was concerned about her, and put her on anti-depressants.  Then?  Liza informs me that she spoke to Pammy, apologized for her "behavior":  forgetfulness, inattention, tardiness, frequent absences, etc.  Basically she googl.ed depression.  Seriously.  I can't make this shit up.  Not only was it insulting that this "person" was attempting to compare the "drama" of her life to mine, but she was actually trying to justify her poor work ethic with recent events.  Pammy's response?  "Oh, I hadn't noticed" (I was too busy driving your co-worker off the cliff).  Unbelievable. 

As it got closer to the time I was ripped from my chair and put on disability, the fog of trust began to lift.  I started to see Liza for what she really was...more than just an ogre.  Liza had been working on a project, mainly designing a custom enrollment form for a new client that required using the mail merge function between Excel and Word.  I was always the office go-to for such projects, but not in my current position, and since it was Liza's job to do such tasks, she worked on it.  It didn't become my problem until yet another absence for a "sick" child (why do her kids always seem to get sick on a Monday?  Hmmmm...), the sales rep finds out from the customer that the forms are wrong and no one in the office has a clue as to what they are doing.  And, did I mention that Liza won't answer her phone?  She is home, after all, with a "sick" child.  Enter Gulliver, standing in my office, bead of sweat on his forehead, pleading for help.  I'm just not the type to say no, I have an overgrown 5 year old sweating in my office, there is a critical broker relationship on the line and one seriously ticked off new customer.  I do what I have always done.  Drop what I'm doing, roll up my sleeves and fix it.  What I found...oh dear Lord, what I found was frightening.  I don't know what kind of thought process Liza has, but this was one of the most ass-backwards setups I had ever seen.  It was done 10x harder than it needed to be.  To top it off?  Liza password protected it.  And won't answer her phone.  Fabulous.  Let's just say what took her a week, I recreated, from scratch, in 3 hours.  And better than the original.  Natch.  The result?  Happy broker, happy customer, Gulliver's not sweating anymore and I have another eye-opening experience into the debacle that is Liza.  What I didn't get, however, was any kind of appreciation from Pammy for stepping up to the plate, fixing the catastrophe associated with someone elses's job.  You'd think I strutted around the office, declaring my disdain for Liza and victory for being the savior.  A simple thank you, hell, even through the stalls in the ladies room would have sufficed.  I'm not hard to please.

What happened next, and only 2 weeks before d-day, was enough to literally pull the trigger for me.  We were gathered in the conference room as one of our peers was going to be recognized.  A pretty big deal for us lowly service employees.  When Candie started blathering on about the project, the details were clear.  It was the project I had saved because Liza dropped the ball.  When Candie said "Liza McAdelman", my heart sank...deeper than it was before entering the room.  I could not believe that they were recognizing her for not doing her job right, but Pammy can make up the rules of my job from one week to the next and expect me to know the changes, dangling my employment in my face like a carrot?  We all make mistakes, but those of us who care (and are clearly held to higher standards) make an effort to fix them. Where was Liza when the shit hit the fan?  Did I mention that her husband works 2nd shift and could have tended to the "sick" kid?  Half of a day in the office would have fixed the problem, instead of it landing in my lap to fix.  Let's add insult to injury.  Did Liza speak up to clarify that while she did the project, it was me that had to recreate the wheel in her absence because she didn't do it correctly?  Nope.  She accepted that award, smiling and laughing, basking in all her Shrek-like glory. 

SLAP.IN.FACE. 

"Management:" knew that I did the project and saved Gulliver's ass, yet still put in the award for Liza.  You can't give someone an award for a job well done when they are under performance review.  That makes a "manager" look incompetent, after all.  When things calmed down in the conference room, mainly after Candie stopped patting herself on the back for having (some) "top notch employees", I got up and went straight back to my desk.  Work was piling up every minute that I was being subjected to slap.in.face time, and Pammy didn't need more ammunition for our next check-in.  She was busy enough making it up.

Not long after I found out I was soon-to-be unemployed, I was firmly parked on face.book one day and noticed Liza was logged in.  All day.  On a work day.  the company doesn't allow access to fb, so I figured she must be off work for the day.  Then the next day?  Yup, logged in.  All day.  And the day after that, and so on.  This went on for over a week.  So, in casual texting with Annette, I asked if Liza was on vacation.  Nope, she's been "in" the office.  Interesting.  Annette starts complaining about Liza (as she frequently did\does) and how she's always messing with her new phone, either on fb, texting or her infamous loud personal calls but doesn't ever have the time to provide support as she should.  I found it interesting that despite the recent shake up in the office, Liza hadn't changed one bit.  Why should she?  There was never anything wrong, ah-hem, with her performance...at least "management" didn't think so.  I was angry.  Hulk-SMASH!!! angry.  Here I am, no better head-wise than I was 4 months prior, waiting for severance paperwork and this SHREK can do or say anything she damn well pleases without recourse.  Can I get a WTF??  So, I unfriended her.  I didn't need the reminder that shoddy workmanship and zero work ethic are rewarded, while I get laid off for busting my arse.  It took her 3 weeks to notice that we weren't "friends" anymore.  What happened next still makes me giggle.

Upon noticing that we were no longer friends on fb, Liza loudly proclaims "Marbles isn't my friend anymore?!?!?!".  In the office.  Out loud.  Annette, who knew what I did, kept mum.  Nancy, a (former) fellow sales rep's chew toy, laughed.  "Ohhhh, Liza, you must've pissed her off!!".  So, Liza did what any asshat would do.  She sent me a message.  And I ignored it.  Then?  Then she sent me another, only the tone was more "I will mow you down with my car if you don't tell me why" than "I'm concerned for your well being".  Being the defensive person that I am, I finally responded to her. I informed her that she disrespected me far too much in the brief time we had known each other, and seeing her logged into fb all day on her personal phone, knowing damn well she's accomplishing nothing (because entitled people never change) while I am in the process of losing everything I worked so hard to achieve was too much, and I didn't need that kind of reminder.  Her response was less than kind, to the effect of "it's not my fault you lost your job" and "I don't have to explain myself to you".  And, yes, I agree.  There were so many other factors, contrived of course, that had more effect on "management"'s decision, but her actions (and inaction) certainly didn't help my cause any.  What a friend, indeed.  So, Liza has been blocked for over a year now.  No comments on other friend's posts or pictures.  No reminder of what laziness and Shrek-ness will get you.  Sheer bliss.

Until.

Annette, just last week, posts a status update about how great it is that D.I.N.K got a job (and they can plan their next vacation!!  YAY!! ) and that "her good friend" Liza got her promotion.

Wait.  WHAT?!?!?

Yup.  Rewarded with a promotion.  Un-effing-believable.  I'm going to tear my house apart, those damned hidden cameras have GOT to be somewhere, because there is no way my life is unscripted.  Only I don't have a copy of the script.  And seriously?  I BLOCKED HER FOR A REASON.  Next time, please use the "@" function to tag her in your status, and spare me the nausea.  Then I remembered...Annette isn't smart enough to know about that.  And since I don't ever see her anymore, our contact is basically through fb and texting vs. daily in the office, so I wouldn't be able to show her how to do that.  Technically inept at it's finest.

So, there you have it.  The reason I hate Shrek...and not the hilarious green ogre.

And, I'm working on a post for Stump, oh, you'll L-O-V-E Stump*.  Or Smelly, I can't decide on which name I'll settle on.  I picked Stump while working with her, so maybe that will stick.  I'm thinking the Stump post will have to be a series of posts, there's just far too much about Stump to contain in one post.  My post overfloweth.

And, maybe a post about my good friend Jennifer**.  See, this pretty lady was also screwed over by the "Dynamic Duo".  I don't have many details, but I'm sure we can work on that ;)

So many posts, so much time...and ogres.  Oh my.

*Yeah, you know the drill

**Hope you like your "name"

Edited:  Of course, right after I published this post, I got a voicemail from a temp agency regarding one of my apps from last week...and I have no voice due to an early spring cold.  Sigh.  Shoot me now.