The last two days have certainly NOT been dull! Here are just a few of the highlights:
1) I am now getting up at 3:00 every morning to give Dorothy a "booster" medication to help her sleep through the rest of the night. Apparently she has been waking up around 4 every morning, unable to go back to sleep. 3am SUCKS. It's too close to 5:30am when my alarm goes off and hello, who wants their beauty sleep interrupted?? But it is what it is so I just keep plugging along!
2) I have been having horrible dreams lately! Really bad ones! Like, two nights ago I dreamed that my parents GOT DIVORCED! Not only would that NEVER happen, I don't want to think about it! I consider a dream like that a nightmare! And they've been common for the past few weeks. Usually at least once a night I wake up from either a really strange dream or a really horrible one. It makes me wonder if I talk in my sleep during the bad ones. Dorothy says I've done that before.
3) Yesterday a coworker and I were exchanging e-mails. This is something we do often (we're also friends outside of work) and we always just hit reply, rather than starting a new e-mail. Hence, this particular e-mail that was sent yesterday had about two weeks worth of e-mails tacked onto it.
I sent him an e-mail around 10:30am saying that I was going on a break so if he could be "backup" for another coworker, that would be great.
Around 1:30 he and I got an e-mail from some woman neither of us know saying that our e-mail had been posted to Public Notices for all to see.
That's BAD. Really, REALLY BAD.
Public Notices is basically an online bulletin board and is system wide. EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE in Samaritan can view this board. For those of you who don't know, Samaritan is HUGE. We have five hospitals.
Now, there wasn't any patient information in this e-mail and we hadn't been cussing anybody out or anything. BUT, I had been fairly annoyed with another coworker earlier in the day and had vented to Caleb about that. Deep down in the e-mail was a blurb about the argument I had with my boyfriend last week and how frustrated I had been. Even deeper down was a copy of a personal text message. Once in the e-mail I read the F word. You know, the type of dirty laundry you DON'T WANT THE ENTIRE COMPANY TO READ!
Caleb immediately deleted the e-mail and caught me in the hall on my way back from lunch to tell me in person what had happened. After being QUITE mortified, I decided we had better talk to our manager about it. He was very cool and thanked us for coming to him and giving him a heads up on the situation. He asked us how this could have happened and nobody can figure it out. I even called the I.S. department and they don't know how it happens, just that it occasionally does.
So now Caleb and I are just hoping that not TOO many people read the e-mail in its entirety (you know, just the harmless first sentence) and that nobody comes to our boss to try to get us into trouble.
4) More caregiver drama. We have one caregiver who has become a TOTAL flake and it totally sucks because she's also Dorothy's favorite and is REALLY good at what she does. But, you know, being reliable is a very big part of it. I have an interview today at 5:30 with a potential caregiver and I am SO hoping she's awesome and wonderful and a perfect fit for Dorothy.
So, folks! That's my week in a nutshell! Stay tuned because I'm SURE there will be more! :)
Showing posts with label Drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drama. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, December 15, 2008
The adventures of snow and ice
What a fun day! And by fun I mean crazy!
Last night it started snowing and I thought, ooh, how pretty... I love snow. It's beautiful. I looked outside when I went to bed at 11 and it had stopped but there was probably about an inch already accumulated. Here is the view from my porch:
This morning as soon as I woke up I looked outside to see how much more it had snowed and from my bedroom window (which doesn't overlook much) it looked like it hadn't really snowed any more. I got ready for the day, got all my stuff together, bundled up in my coat and boots and scarf and gloves and headed out the door.
WELL! There was a LOT more snow than I had thought!
I tramped through it to get to my car, went to stick the key in the lock and it wouldn't go in. The lock was completely frozen. Joy. I fiddled with it for a minute and got nowhere. I tramped back inside and set all my stuff down. I got some hot water (I hate using hot water on frozen cars but that lock was STUCK) and tramped back down.
After pouring water on my passenger side lock a little at a time, I was able to get the key to turn. Now to get the DOOR to open! (More pouring of water around the edges...) I climbed through and shoved my driver's side door open. (By now it's 7:10 and I'm way late but I had called my boss twice and she didn't answer so obviously she was late, too!)
I tramped BACK inside, got my stuff, locked my apartment and loaded my car. I started the car, turned on the defrost and started scraping the windows, making sure that I always had at least one door open at all times so I wouldn't get frozen out again!
At about 7:25 I finally rolled out of my driveway. I drove about 15mph all the way to pick Stephanie up (who had called me by then to make sure I wasn't in a ditch).
Steve had told me I shouldn't bother even going in because Hospital Hill was so bad that one of the buses had slid partway down the road. But I go up the side that is much less steep so I wasn't too worried. The only obstacle we had was a semi parked in the middle of the road, debating whether he should continue on. (Obvious answer, if you ask me.)
After work we trudged back out to my car. As I pulled out of my parking space Stephanie asked me if the pavement was slick for driving. I said, "I dunno, let's check." I accelerated to about 6mph and then hit the brakes. We slid about 5 feet. I looked at her and said, "Yep, pretty slick!" She had a look of total horror on her face and said, "I am SO glad you're driving!"
I fishtailed twice after dropping her off, once taking off from a red light and another time on a slight incline. I got home and there was a car slightly smaller than mine trying to get out of our driveway. They tried and tried and kept sliding around. Finally they waiting for a big break in traffic, backed waaay up and then gunned it, fishtailing all the way up to the road. I thought, "Wow, sucks for them" CLEARLY not thinking that I was intending to leave again in about 15 minutes!
Sure enough, I came back out and the same thing happened to me. I gave it about 3 tries and then gave up when I ended up off to the side of the driveway. I realized that it's probably going to be even worse in the morning so I backed into a parking space and got out my chains. (Thank you, honey!!!)
Since I used them once last year I'm a "pro" at putting them on and it only took me about 15 minutes. I tried the driveway again. Piece of cake!
Moral of the story: I love chains.
I'm at my parents' house now but am heading home in about 15 minutes. I offered to pick up another coworker in the morning so that he doesn't have to try to navigate the awful roads. Stephanie is a cat lover and calls me "catbus" because I pick her up every day. After learning that I had chained up she said, "Ooh, tomorrow it will be catbus supreme!"
Last night it started snowing and I thought, ooh, how pretty... I love snow. It's beautiful. I looked outside when I went to bed at 11 and it had stopped but there was probably about an inch already accumulated. Here is the view from my porch:
This morning as soon as I woke up I looked outside to see how much more it had snowed and from my bedroom window (which doesn't overlook much) it looked like it hadn't really snowed any more. I got ready for the day, got all my stuff together, bundled up in my coat and boots and scarf and gloves and headed out the door.
WELL! There was a LOT more snow than I had thought!
I tramped through it to get to my car, went to stick the key in the lock and it wouldn't go in. The lock was completely frozen. Joy. I fiddled with it for a minute and got nowhere. I tramped back inside and set all my stuff down. I got some hot water (I hate using hot water on frozen cars but that lock was STUCK) and tramped back down.
After pouring water on my passenger side lock a little at a time, I was able to get the key to turn. Now to get the DOOR to open! (More pouring of water around the edges...) I climbed through and shoved my driver's side door open. (By now it's 7:10 and I'm way late but I had called my boss twice and she didn't answer so obviously she was late, too!)
I tramped BACK inside, got my stuff, locked my apartment and loaded my car. I started the car, turned on the defrost and started scraping the windows, making sure that I always had at least one door open at all times so I wouldn't get frozen out again!
At about 7:25 I finally rolled out of my driveway. I drove about 15mph all the way to pick Stephanie up (who had called me by then to make sure I wasn't in a ditch).
Steve had told me I shouldn't bother even going in because Hospital Hill was so bad that one of the buses had slid partway down the road. But I go up the side that is much less steep so I wasn't too worried. The only obstacle we had was a semi parked in the middle of the road, debating whether he should continue on. (Obvious answer, if you ask me.)
After work we trudged back out to my car. As I pulled out of my parking space Stephanie asked me if the pavement was slick for driving. I said, "I dunno, let's check." I accelerated to about 6mph and then hit the brakes. We slid about 5 feet. I looked at her and said, "Yep, pretty slick!" She had a look of total horror on her face and said, "I am SO glad you're driving!"
I fishtailed twice after dropping her off, once taking off from a red light and another time on a slight incline. I got home and there was a car slightly smaller than mine trying to get out of our driveway. They tried and tried and kept sliding around. Finally they waiting for a big break in traffic, backed waaay up and then gunned it, fishtailing all the way up to the road. I thought, "Wow, sucks for them" CLEARLY not thinking that I was intending to leave again in about 15 minutes!
Sure enough, I came back out and the same thing happened to me. I gave it about 3 tries and then gave up when I ended up off to the side of the driveway. I realized that it's probably going to be even worse in the morning so I backed into a parking space and got out my chains. (Thank you, honey!!!)
Since I used them once last year I'm a "pro" at putting them on and it only took me about 15 minutes. I tried the driveway again. Piece of cake!
Moral of the story: I love chains.
I'm at my parents' house now but am heading home in about 15 minutes. I offered to pick up another coworker in the morning so that he doesn't have to try to navigate the awful roads. Stephanie is a cat lover and calls me "catbus" because I pick her up every day. After learning that I had chained up she said, "Ooh, tomorrow it will be catbus supreme!"
Sunday, February 24, 2008
I see nothing...
I stayed home from church today because it started 25 minutes ago and I'm barely out of bed.
Brooke is gone for the weekend and Kaitlyn never stays here on the weekends. I told Brooke I would take care of J while she's gone so it's just been him and me at night. I texted Steve Friday night and said I don't like being here alone because this isn't the best of neighborhoods and this house has been broken into before (I did not know any of this when I moved in). He said it would be ok, he's just a phone call and 5 minutes away, plus I have J. That made me feel better and I went to bed.
At 2:30 in the morning J starts barking. Now, he's a dog who doesn't bark. He just doesn't. Unless he thinks something is very wrong. And this was a low, warning-type bark. I picked up my cell phone and crept out of my room. As soon as I stepped out of the doorway, J ran up to me, wagging his tail with a look on his face like, "I'm a good boy, I'm protecting you!" I did tell him he was a good boy, and we went out to the living room to see what he was barking at. I never did figure it out. I peeked out the curtains and made sure the doors were locked but I couldn't see anything odd. I went back to bed and lay awake for quite awhile, but eventually I feel asleep.
4:00 in the morning, repeat. More growling and barking, but absolutely nothing wrong that I can see. It made me even more nervous that it happened twice, and frustrated that I couldn't see a single thing out of the ordinary, but J obviously could. If only dogs could talk.
When I let him out in the morning he ran out the back gate, which was hanging open. I immediately thought someone had been in our backyard (which I did not like the idea of, especially since they have to go past my bedroom window to get there), but it turns out Kaitlyn left it open (dog! hello!).
Last night, Steve left my house around 10:30 and, again, I told him I hate being here alone, especially after the night before. Hug, kiss, reassuring, goodnight, lock the doors. I looked through the phone book to try to find the non-emergency police dispatch number but couldn't find it. Then I realized the first page had been torn out and just to the left of the tear line I could see the words "non-emergency." Lotta help that is! So I got online to look and after about 15 minutes of searching I found a number. I put it in my phone and went to bed.
2:30 in the morning, barking! What the heck!!! But this time his growling woke me up before his barking. Growling is more serious to me because it's much more of a warning. Pick up my cell phone, creep out into the living room, investigate, nothing. I called the non-emergency number I had found and, in fact, DID get the dispatch line. I asked the lady if they could spare an officer if someone could do a drive-by. She asked for what reason and I explained that I have a dog who NEVER barks unless he thinks something is very wrong and he'd been barking and growling for ten minutes. I told her I couldn't see a thing wrong but that I wasn't about to go outside and look. She said absolutely, they would have somebody check the area for me.
Brooke called at 7:15 this morning and said sure, it never happens when she's home but now it's been 2 nights in a row. In addition, her car was spray painted a few weeks ago and egged last weekend. So now I'm thinking it's somebody against her (most likely her ex and his new girlfriend). She said I shouldn't worry too much, and that she'll be home tomorrow and she is NOT afraid to go outside and investigate. She also said that we'll sit down and she'll teach me how to use her gun in case there is ever a DIRE situation where I need it. It did make me feel better last night to know that there WAS a gun and that even if it wasn't loaded, it would be to my advantage to HAVE it if someone did come in the house. She also said that if someone came in the house and J could tell that I was scared, he would bite the hell out of them.
Sooo... with all of that and awful, awful cramps, I am sitting on the couch blogging, eating oatmeal and watching Hairspray (AWESOME!). I might just go clean the patio this afternoon while my sheets are washing.
Thanks for listening to my boring recount of the last two nights. =) I'm hoping tonight won't be another repeat because I have to be up at 5:30 in the morning!
Brooke is gone for the weekend and Kaitlyn never stays here on the weekends. I told Brooke I would take care of J while she's gone so it's just been him and me at night. I texted Steve Friday night and said I don't like being here alone because this isn't the best of neighborhoods and this house has been broken into before (I did not know any of this when I moved in). He said it would be ok, he's just a phone call and 5 minutes away, plus I have J. That made me feel better and I went to bed.
At 2:30 in the morning J starts barking. Now, he's a dog who doesn't bark. He just doesn't. Unless he thinks something is very wrong. And this was a low, warning-type bark. I picked up my cell phone and crept out of my room. As soon as I stepped out of the doorway, J ran up to me, wagging his tail with a look on his face like, "I'm a good boy, I'm protecting you!" I did tell him he was a good boy, and we went out to the living room to see what he was barking at. I never did figure it out. I peeked out the curtains and made sure the doors were locked but I couldn't see anything odd. I went back to bed and lay awake for quite awhile, but eventually I feel asleep.
4:00 in the morning, repeat. More growling and barking, but absolutely nothing wrong that I can see. It made me even more nervous that it happened twice, and frustrated that I couldn't see a single thing out of the ordinary, but J obviously could. If only dogs could talk.
When I let him out in the morning he ran out the back gate, which was hanging open. I immediately thought someone had been in our backyard (which I did not like the idea of, especially since they have to go past my bedroom window to get there), but it turns out Kaitlyn left it open (dog! hello!).
Last night, Steve left my house around 10:30 and, again, I told him I hate being here alone, especially after the night before. Hug, kiss, reassuring, goodnight, lock the doors. I looked through the phone book to try to find the non-emergency police dispatch number but couldn't find it. Then I realized the first page had been torn out and just to the left of the tear line I could see the words "non-emergency." Lotta help that is! So I got online to look and after about 15 minutes of searching I found a number. I put it in my phone and went to bed.
2:30 in the morning, barking! What the heck!!! But this time his growling woke me up before his barking. Growling is more serious to me because it's much more of a warning. Pick up my cell phone, creep out into the living room, investigate, nothing. I called the non-emergency number I had found and, in fact, DID get the dispatch line. I asked the lady if they could spare an officer if someone could do a drive-by. She asked for what reason and I explained that I have a dog who NEVER barks unless he thinks something is very wrong and he'd been barking and growling for ten minutes. I told her I couldn't see a thing wrong but that I wasn't about to go outside and look. She said absolutely, they would have somebody check the area for me.
Brooke called at 7:15 this morning and said sure, it never happens when she's home but now it's been 2 nights in a row. In addition, her car was spray painted a few weeks ago and egged last weekend. So now I'm thinking it's somebody against her (most likely her ex and his new girlfriend). She said I shouldn't worry too much, and that she'll be home tomorrow and she is NOT afraid to go outside and investigate. She also said that we'll sit down and she'll teach me how to use her gun in case there is ever a DIRE situation where I need it. It did make me feel better last night to know that there WAS a gun and that even if it wasn't loaded, it would be to my advantage to HAVE it if someone did come in the house. She also said that if someone came in the house and J could tell that I was scared, he would bite the hell out of them.
Sooo... with all of that and awful, awful cramps, I am sitting on the couch blogging, eating oatmeal and watching Hairspray (AWESOME!). I might just go clean the patio this afternoon while my sheets are washing.
Thanks for listening to my boring recount of the last two nights. =) I'm hoping tonight won't be another repeat because I have to be up at 5:30 in the morning!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
And at the end of the day...
If Blogger were like MySpace (and thank the good Lord it isn't) I would be able to choose a "mood" to go with my blog. Today's would be Livid.
I've been having an emotionally hard time with life in general the past few weeks and today I finally felt like I was having a really good day and things were looking up. I was having lunch in my car (which I've come to enjoy because it's so quiet and peaceful) and I rolled the windows down to soak in some sun. I texted one of my roommates and said, "It smells like spring!" A few minutes later I got a text back that read, "I'm not exactly happy with you."
Oh-kay!
When I came home and walked in my room, I found the whiteboard on my bed, completely full of her handwriting. Along with a pile of my stuff, which apparently cannot live where it had been living. (It's virtually all of my bathroom stuff and it had been living in a little tote on the back of the toilet.)
On the whiteboard was basically a list of all the things I am doing that are unacceptable. The gist of it was that I'm a slob and if I'm going to ask them to pick anything up, then every damn thing of mine better be picked up, too. In not so nice words.
The 5th thing on the list said (I kid you not), "FIND A WAY TO BE HAPPY!"
Gee, it would be really cool if happiness was just a switch you could flip to On and the world would be a wonderful place. It was ironic to me that she decided to bitch me out on the first day I was actually feeling like the world COULD be a wonderful place.
The PS at the bottom of the board said, "Seriously, work on #5."
Then, I walk into the kitchen and there's ANOTHER note on the whiteboard on the fridge! Basically saying, "Hope you got my other note because, seriously, I am FED UP with you." She went so far as to say (and I quote), "You have no regard for other people's feelings." SHE said that I have no regard for people's feelings! After she wrote me those notes!!!
After I called Steve and screamed into his voicemail (poor guy - I was SO angry), I wrote a nasty note back and basically fired something back about every point she had made. I'd love to move my stuff in the bathroom, if the drawers and cupboards weren't ALREADY full! And it would be great if we could rearrange some kitchen stuff, so why don't you move the light fixtures from the 70's that are being stored in the cupboards. Except I was NOT nice.
One point she did make that was valid is that ever since I moved in I've had boxes and totes stacked against a couple of walls and all over the garage. Ironically (again) it was something I was planning to work on this weekend. Mind you, she has never mentioned one word about me maybe picking stuff up or organizing a little, it was just *BAM* nasty note.
I spent several hours tonight organizing my stuff in the garage and hauling it up to the attic to store. I went to Target and bought several more plastic totes (for way too much money) and filled most of them. I flattened some boxes and stacked others to store way in the back of the attic for when I move again. I came inside and unpacked two boxes that have been living in the hallway. I vacuumed. I did all the dishes (including theirs) and wiped down the counters. I took out the trash.
And she darn well better appreciate it.
Then I tore up the first note I wrote and wrote (a much shorter) one basically kissing up and saying I'll work on the stuff she talked about. And telling her that she REALLY hurt my feelings. She said she hates coming home because I always have something to bitch about and now I don't want to be here because apparently I can't do anything right. And apparently it's HER house and I'm just living in it. I sure don't feel like it's my home anymore.
Diana, will you please move back?
**Side note: I don't usually talk about people like this, but I'm sorry, I had to get it all off my chest.
I've been having an emotionally hard time with life in general the past few weeks and today I finally felt like I was having a really good day and things were looking up. I was having lunch in my car (which I've come to enjoy because it's so quiet and peaceful) and I rolled the windows down to soak in some sun. I texted one of my roommates and said, "It smells like spring!" A few minutes later I got a text back that read, "I'm not exactly happy with you."
Oh-kay!
When I came home and walked in my room, I found the whiteboard on my bed, completely full of her handwriting. Along with a pile of my stuff, which apparently cannot live where it had been living. (It's virtually all of my bathroom stuff and it had been living in a little tote on the back of the toilet.)
On the whiteboard was basically a list of all the things I am doing that are unacceptable. The gist of it was that I'm a slob and if I'm going to ask them to pick anything up, then every damn thing of mine better be picked up, too. In not so nice words.
The 5th thing on the list said (I kid you not), "FIND A WAY TO BE HAPPY!"
Gee, it would be really cool if happiness was just a switch you could flip to On and the world would be a wonderful place. It was ironic to me that she decided to bitch me out on the first day I was actually feeling like the world COULD be a wonderful place.
The PS at the bottom of the board said, "Seriously, work on #5."
Then, I walk into the kitchen and there's ANOTHER note on the whiteboard on the fridge! Basically saying, "Hope you got my other note because, seriously, I am FED UP with you." She went so far as to say (and I quote), "You have no regard for other people's feelings." SHE said that I have no regard for people's feelings! After she wrote me those notes!!!
After I called Steve and screamed into his voicemail (poor guy - I was SO angry), I wrote a nasty note back and basically fired something back about every point she had made. I'd love to move my stuff in the bathroom, if the drawers and cupboards weren't ALREADY full! And it would be great if we could rearrange some kitchen stuff, so why don't you move the light fixtures from the 70's that are being stored in the cupboards. Except I was NOT nice.
One point she did make that was valid is that ever since I moved in I've had boxes and totes stacked against a couple of walls and all over the garage. Ironically (again) it was something I was planning to work on this weekend. Mind you, she has never mentioned one word about me maybe picking stuff up or organizing a little, it was just *BAM* nasty note.
I spent several hours tonight organizing my stuff in the garage and hauling it up to the attic to store. I went to Target and bought several more plastic totes (for way too much money) and filled most of them. I flattened some boxes and stacked others to store way in the back of the attic for when I move again. I came inside and unpacked two boxes that have been living in the hallway. I vacuumed. I did all the dishes (including theirs) and wiped down the counters. I took out the trash.
And she darn well better appreciate it.
Then I tore up the first note I wrote and wrote (a much shorter) one basically kissing up and saying I'll work on the stuff she talked about. And telling her that she REALLY hurt my feelings. She said she hates coming home because I always have something to bitch about and now I don't want to be here because apparently I can't do anything right. And apparently it's HER house and I'm just living in it. I sure don't feel like it's my home anymore.
Diana, will you please move back?
**Side note: I don't usually talk about people like this, but I'm sorry, I had to get it all off my chest.
Friday, November 2, 2007
TGIF!
I am SO glad the weekend is here. Work was crazy today! Usually around 3:00 when the evening shift comes in, I start cleaning up my stuff and I do some busy work like sorting mail or, this week, reading policies and procedures. Even though Fridays are insane days, I'd never had one as busy as today. I was running around like a mad woman until the minute I had to walk out the door. The Emergency Room is really busy on Fridays and yesterday I only went down there once, but today I think I went down 8 times, and 4 of those were in the last hour of work!
When I go to the ER, I enter through the "back" door, walk the length of the hallway, deliver the chart, and exit through the "front" door. On one trip down today I walked in the back door, and Security was in the hallway. Well great, that means there's a Crazy there and I have to walk past them. I don't mind that, I just always hope there isn't a scene. RIGHT as I was walking past, this woman comes barreling out of the room wearing a hospital gown and holding a sheet around her waist. She said to the security guard, "Hey, where's that shrink lady? I wanna talk to her again!" I delivered my chart and headed back upstairs. Just as I got there, they called for another chart, so I found it and headed back down. I reminded myself while I was walking down the hallway that I should go in the front door, but when I reached the back door, I automatically pushed the button to open it, and walked in. As I turned the corner, there was the Crazy, still standing outside her room. As I walked past she was waving her arm at the security guard and saying, "You're not even in my galaxy. You're not even up to warp speed!"
Wow.
When I mentioned yesterday that bosses are frustrating... Oy, they sure are. Yesterday morning I was pulling charts and my supervisor and another coworker were standing in front of the shelves (in my way), talking. I said excuse me once or twice while I was going back and forth on the shelves, but they stood and talked for like 10 minutes. It would have been one thing if they were talking about something work related, or even something... regular. But no, they were talking about The System (the county court system) and their messed up families. Abusive husbands and how the Court wouldn't do anything about them unless they really hurt a child (i.e. put them in the hospital). An ex-daughter-in-law who lives with you and makes 2 grand a month but doesn't contribute to living expenses and another daughter who works her butt off with no assistance and is a single mom because she was raped and chose to keep the baby (okay, I actually have some admiration for that). I wanted to say something but I really didn't feel like it was my place. Had one of them not been my supervisor I might have, but I didn't feel comfortable. The reason this is so frustrating to me is that we got an e-mail last week saying there's too much chit chatting going on up front, and then they stand around and talk about their dysfunctional families. As least we talk about normal stuff!
Work is an interesting place!
When I go to the ER, I enter through the "back" door, walk the length of the hallway, deliver the chart, and exit through the "front" door. On one trip down today I walked in the back door, and Security was in the hallway. Well great, that means there's a Crazy there and I have to walk past them. I don't mind that, I just always hope there isn't a scene. RIGHT as I was walking past, this woman comes barreling out of the room wearing a hospital gown and holding a sheet around her waist. She said to the security guard, "Hey, where's that shrink lady? I wanna talk to her again!" I delivered my chart and headed back upstairs. Just as I got there, they called for another chart, so I found it and headed back down. I reminded myself while I was walking down the hallway that I should go in the front door, but when I reached the back door, I automatically pushed the button to open it, and walked in. As I turned the corner, there was the Crazy, still standing outside her room. As I walked past she was waving her arm at the security guard and saying, "You're not even in my galaxy. You're not even up to warp speed!"
Wow.
When I mentioned yesterday that bosses are frustrating... Oy, they sure are. Yesterday morning I was pulling charts and my supervisor and another coworker were standing in front of the shelves (in my way), talking. I said excuse me once or twice while I was going back and forth on the shelves, but they stood and talked for like 10 minutes. It would have been one thing if they were talking about something work related, or even something... regular. But no, they were talking about The System (the county court system) and their messed up families. Abusive husbands and how the Court wouldn't do anything about them unless they really hurt a child (i.e. put them in the hospital). An ex-daughter-in-law who lives with you and makes 2 grand a month but doesn't contribute to living expenses and another daughter who works her butt off with no assistance and is a single mom because she was raped and chose to keep the baby (okay, I actually have some admiration for that). I wanted to say something but I really didn't feel like it was my place. Had one of them not been my supervisor I might have, but I didn't feel comfortable. The reason this is so frustrating to me is that we got an e-mail last week saying there's too much chit chatting going on up front, and then they stand around and talk about their dysfunctional families. As least we talk about normal stuff!
Work is an interesting place!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
You never know who will pop back into your life
We had a volunteer come in this morning, Jennifer. She walked in the door and I thought, wow, she looks really familiar. Then it dawned on me. She and her twin sister were the on-site managers at the quad where Diana and I met.
That made the morning a little bit awkward because while Diana and I were extremely frustrated and unhappy with their managing skills, we tried to be nice. They, on the other hand, were not so nice. Sometimes it was just inconsiderate, like standing outside my window at 11pm, talking to their friends at the top of their lungs about the frat party they went to. Sometimes it was actual rudeness like stuffing a desk and lamp and other things that weren't ours in the utility closet in our kitchen, just because they needed storage space. We argued that we were paying to rent that space and we wanted to use our utility closet, but they didn't care.
On top of that, they were Daddy's little girls just living there (probably rent free) so that there were on-site managers. We paid a cleaning deposit, but when we moved in there were dead bugs in the light covers in the kitchen and half an inch of dust on top of the bathroom mirror. Clean? I don't think so. On top of that, it took them 3 weeks to fix Diana's broken light switch, they never did fix our screen door that fell off and the day before we moved out they replaced the light bulb in the fridge that had been out since we moved in.
And then there was their dad. When we moved out they said they'd be getting our deposits back to us soon. After about two weeks I called to check on the deposits. He told me his wife was out of the country and had just gotten back and then was leaving the country again in a few days so we should have them soon. Another week and a half goes by and I walk into their business to ask him face to face, "Hey, what gives?" He was extremely rude to me and told me that legally they have 30 days to get us our deposits and that we WOULD be getting them. One of his employees apologized to me for his behavior and I told him, "It's not your fault, but I sure won't be recommending anyone to him as a tenant or a customer."
29 days after moving out we got our deposits back.
Diana got almost all of hers back. They charged me for nail holes in the wall (funny, I asked them about those and they said to just spackle them and it would be fine - which I did), a broken lock on the door to the kitchen (worked fine when I moved out) and a burnt out light bulb (which did not exist). Yep, won't be recommending them.
Ladies and gents, don't visit Schaeffer's on 9th street and don't rent from R4.
That made the morning a little bit awkward because while Diana and I were extremely frustrated and unhappy with their managing skills, we tried to be nice. They, on the other hand, were not so nice. Sometimes it was just inconsiderate, like standing outside my window at 11pm, talking to their friends at the top of their lungs about the frat party they went to. Sometimes it was actual rudeness like stuffing a desk and lamp and other things that weren't ours in the utility closet in our kitchen, just because they needed storage space. We argued that we were paying to rent that space and we wanted to use our utility closet, but they didn't care.
On top of that, they were Daddy's little girls just living there (probably rent free) so that there were on-site managers. We paid a cleaning deposit, but when we moved in there were dead bugs in the light covers in the kitchen and half an inch of dust on top of the bathroom mirror. Clean? I don't think so. On top of that, it took them 3 weeks to fix Diana's broken light switch, they never did fix our screen door that fell off and the day before we moved out they replaced the light bulb in the fridge that had been out since we moved in.
And then there was their dad. When we moved out they said they'd be getting our deposits back to us soon. After about two weeks I called to check on the deposits. He told me his wife was out of the country and had just gotten back and then was leaving the country again in a few days so we should have them soon. Another week and a half goes by and I walk into their business to ask him face to face, "Hey, what gives?" He was extremely rude to me and told me that legally they have 30 days to get us our deposits and that we WOULD be getting them. One of his employees apologized to me for his behavior and I told him, "It's not your fault, but I sure won't be recommending anyone to him as a tenant or a customer."
29 days after moving out we got our deposits back.
Diana got almost all of hers back. They charged me for nail holes in the wall (funny, I asked them about those and they said to just spackle them and it would be fine - which I did), a broken lock on the door to the kitchen (worked fine when I moved out) and a burnt out light bulb (which did not exist). Yep, won't be recommending them.
Ladies and gents, don't visit Schaeffer's on 9th street and don't rent from R4.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Story, continued...
Well, I took the story down. I just wasn't comfortable having all that drama posted here.
As of last night, Shelly is independant.
Kyle called me around 7:45 and said, "I need you over here." He was talking to Shelly online. She was throwing questions at him and he was feeling like he failed her. Apparently when someone was trying to get in the back door, it was HER. Her parents were disowning her and they told her to go and get Kyle and see if he would stand with her. He had no idea it was her out there.
He went to her last night (at the library) to talk to her face to face because they were talking in circles online. He texted me a little later and said, "It's going down. She's leaving her parents. I'm probably driving to Roseburg tonight to talk to her father." Yikes!
They never did drive to Roseburg. By the time they were finished talking to her mother and had parted ways with her, her father was in town. Shelly came home with Kyle last night with some clothes and some school supplies. No car, no computer, no iPod, nothing.
Kyle texted me again this morning and said, "I feel freaking ten feet tall! WE DID IT! Yayah!" He said Shelly is so much stronger and is taking steps to getting her life back. I am so proud of her.
I would never wish disownment on anyone, but I know that she will become so much healthier and happier in the long run. She can finally live her own life. She is her own person again. We have our Shelly back.
As of last night, Shelly is independant.
Kyle called me around 7:45 and said, "I need you over here." He was talking to Shelly online. She was throwing questions at him and he was feeling like he failed her. Apparently when someone was trying to get in the back door, it was HER. Her parents were disowning her and they told her to go and get Kyle and see if he would stand with her. He had no idea it was her out there.
He went to her last night (at the library) to talk to her face to face because they were talking in circles online. He texted me a little later and said, "It's going down. She's leaving her parents. I'm probably driving to Roseburg tonight to talk to her father." Yikes!
They never did drive to Roseburg. By the time they were finished talking to her mother and had parted ways with her, her father was in town. Shelly came home with Kyle last night with some clothes and some school supplies. No car, no computer, no iPod, nothing.
Kyle texted me again this morning and said, "I feel freaking ten feet tall! WE DID IT! Yayah!" He said Shelly is so much stronger and is taking steps to getting her life back. I am so proud of her.
I would never wish disownment on anyone, but I know that she will become so much healthier and happier in the long run. She can finally live her own life. She is her own person again. We have our Shelly back.
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