I have been in a fugue state for weeks, and the quality of my writing has suffered, I know. The quality of my life has suffered. I hang on, a day at a time. And look forward to my life without Mega.

What's it like to be a SAHM? I remember, from being home with Bear until he was 6 months old, being utterly exhausted all the time.

Does it stay that way, now that he's walking and talking?

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:16 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Warning: This is a post where I am going to swear, so stop now if it offends you. Or not. Whatever. I'm not here to tell you what to do - I got my own shit to worry about.

Yesterday sucked.

It started with a phone call from one of my co-workers.

I'm going to say right now that I am not a sexist, I don't give a hot shit the gender of the people I work with - or the shape, size, color, sexual orientation, religion, or level of sarcasm.

I even understand that sometimes smart people choose to go to non-Jesuit Universities for their education and while that baffles the crap out of me I don't discriminate against them because they obviously didn't know better.

So when I call this woman a bitch, please understand that it is because she is a bitch. She'll talk to you like she's buttering you up for something but watch out, because the moment you look away - she'll get you. She's nasty.

She's like the scorpion who's ferried by the frog across the lake and kills the frog halfway there - dooming them both. This woman finds trouble because that's what she does. There is no reason for it, no rhyme to it.

And she never lets up.

Someone who is dotted-line reporting to me, but not a member of my beloved Tan Pants Brigade, did something. Something dumb (you know, like realizing your fly is down?), but human, and our customer wasn't effected.

Bitch was the one who saw it happen.

She could have handled it 1 of 2 ways - she could have leaned in and whispered to the guy "Hey, your fly is down".

OR she could have done what she did, which was to call a meeting of everyone that would come to discuss the possible sexual harassment implications of the guy's fly being down and the possible insult it could have meant to our customer.

This is the kind of politics I abhor. And the kind of human beings that exist everywhere and give the rest of us a bad name.

I hardly know the guy who made the mistake. For all I know, he's a dog molester. But he's mine to deal with. My guy. So I had to head into the breach.

Cancel the meeting, I told her.

Why? She asked, all sweet and patronizing.

Because it was a dumb one-time mistake, and no one will learn anything from discussing it except that we're the types who get caught up in the small shit instead of keeping our eye on the big picture, I said.

The customer is counting on me to be honest with them. That is the most important relationship here, she insisted.

The guy's fly was down, you think that is something the customer considers important? They never saw it and it didn't have a flipping thing to do with his job performance, I countered.

I decide what's important for the customer, she snapped, hanging up on me.

A few hours later, I get a call from the guy's solid-line supervisor telling me that he was disappointed to hear that I reported this employee for having a fly at half-mast.

Fuck. No.

I clearly, succinctly laid out the situation. And, of course, he asked me to do what I could to resolve things.

Sighing, I hung up and tried to plan my next move.

No matter what path I had walked the past 5 years - I would have bumped into a few Bitches over the years. If not in corporate America then as a room parent at Bear's school or answering the phones at the community center.

But the corporate variety? Gives me hives.

This is not Schadenfreude - that kind of 'told you so!' thrill we all get sometimes.

This is just power-crazed Nasty with a capital 'N'. Bitches who think nothing of what they do to a person's dignity, or their own souls. Who lie, manipulate, and maneuver just to get the momentary sick thrill of making themselves feel all pompous and big by making someone else small.

I just, I dunno....

But.

No, I still don't know.

I hate dealing with them.

Hate it. Hate it. It just gets to me. Every time.

Then the bitch called me after lunch, wanting to talk to me about something. "Have you canceled the meeting yet?" I asked her.

She spluttered that she had no intention of...

"Right," I interrupted. "Here's the thing..." And I admit, from there I made some veiled threats about the opinion our Exec. VP would have on the situation.

"You wouldn't take this up the line," she responded, sounding pretty sure of the fact.

"Your call," I sighed. "I'm hanging up now."

And I did.

I don't know if I would have actually walked this around; I just had to hope she saw that there would be no winners if I did.

A few hours later, I got the meeting cancellation notice. I was shutting down for the night, exhausted, and it slipped into my inbox. "Due to schedule conflicts, we'll address agenda items in the regular weekly customer reviews."

Doubletalk that meant she was letting it go. I felt a small wave of relief and then moved on.

Or tried to.

An instant message flashed onto my screen. From her. "Have informed guy's direct-report supervisor that he's no longer welcome on this project due to customer dissatisfaction. This account released him at Close of Business today."

It wasn't hers to have done it. It was mine. But she was having the last word. As the customer relations rep, she was flexing every ounce of inferred power. Posing for the adoring masses in her mind.

If his supervisor couldn't find another account for him to work with no notice, he'd probably be laid off. His salary and benefits gone. Even best case scenario, the guy's career, at the very least, would take a small hit.

I could have gone to the mattresses. I might even have won. But there's another 50 guys out there counting on me to fight another day.

Feeling tired and defeated, I simply shut it down for the night.

Bitch.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 08:05 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 1049 words, total size 6 kb.

I spoke with my management today. I got out the indelible, permanent ink, big, honking marker and I said - time to fix an end date.

We used to be so friendly, you know. We used to chat. But the last 6 months has marked me, subtly. I am no longer the Golden One.

She exhaled, and agreed. She asked if I was going to stick it out.

The end date originally chosen was the big milestone for my project - the 3rd week of January. But then a bunch of people saw the new casino we were building and wanted in on the deal. (Yes, euphemism. It's actually an Ice Cream shop. Ah! I'm lying again! Stop me!!!)

The Army of the Tan Pants is counting on me, so I knew before she asked what I was going to do.

I'm staying until the new customers are integrated, and the initial inspection date, I told her. But no longer. You'll have to find a new deputy to shadow me and handle the inevitible delays and corrections.

But you'll stay until the initial inspection date? She asked.

And I said, yes. I will.

And we got the paperwork from Human Resources and filled in the date - February 10.

And despite the fact that I just floored the car heading towards financial ruin...
I can breathe.

And it feels fine.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 01:08 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
Post contains 236 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Wow. Feb. 10th. Deep breaths, girl. You can do it! I'm rooting for you.

Posted by: Lucinda at January 10, 2006 01:24 PM (OPvIN)

2 See, good news! Hooray!

Posted by: caltechgirl at January 10, 2006 05:14 PM (uI/79)

3 Well, I'll be celebrating that day for SURE! Cuz, it's you know, my birthday and all. Heh. You did it! I love big, honking permanent ink markers. )

Posted by: Margi at January 10, 2006 05:43 PM (nwEQH)

4 I'm glad you can breath. I hope things get better.

Posted by: Melissa at January 10, 2006 07:42 PM (RcXdn)

5 Excellent news, just excellent. Financial ruin to one side, it sure can feel nice to put the windows down, crank up the radio, and hit the open road. I'm glad for you.

Posted by: RP at January 11, 2006 02:06 AM (LlPKh)

6 Breathe as much as you'd like -- air is free! You will be awesome, Elizabeth. You will find the "you" that you'd like to be again. And you will love the time with Bear.

Posted by: Veeg at January 11, 2006 03:16 AM (gR0r8)

7 My final day at the company is approaching fast as well and I know exactly how you feel. I am half the time elated at the possibility of never coming back and then scared to death what will mean for us financially. We have to believe. It has to be great. It will mean a somewhat different lifestyle but not necessary bad. Just different. We will relax, adjust and enjoy the kids and look back a year from now and say.. "why was I so worried about this?" Much love to you and yours.

Posted by: Sol at January 11, 2006 06:54 AM (2qH2H)

8 Good for you! Try to enjoy your last few weeks wearing work clothes, seeing other adults, and all that.

Posted by: T at January 11, 2006 09:53 AM (M++hX)

9 **SO** proud of you!

Posted by: flikka at January 11, 2006 09:55 AM (tbRoA)

10 Whooo!

Posted by: madrigalia at January 11, 2006 02:47 PM (TBzUs)

11 T minus 29 and counting, babe

Posted by: Helen at January 12, 2006 03:13 AM (vNDkl)

12 Not much longer.

Posted by: A.K. at January 12, 2006 04:39 AM (fSoFs)

13 Okay. February 11 is the day you begin your full time writing career. Please. Wishfully thinking, I remain, Your fan, GraceD

Posted by: GraceD at January 12, 2006 05:19 AM (wO4MV)

14 Hurrah!! Take deep breaths. That's the air of FREEDOM, baby. Sometimes it helps when that stake finally goes into the ground, marking the spot. There. Dust off your hands and keep going, don't look back.

Posted by: paige at January 12, 2006 09:28 AM (RoUnS)

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I have never felt like this before in my life.

Years ago, I got on a plane for England. I had no plan. No idea what was coming next. Just a lifelong dream to walk along the streets of somewhere else, sunk deep in history and, maybe, the future too.

But even then, I felt grounded in myself. I knew God was close. In each new day, in the kiss of a stranger or in the breeze over the ruins of a castle. There was a sense that I was chasing my destiny and from that, everything was going to be all right.

Ambiguity and uncertainty are unsettling bedmates, but my internal compass kept me going.

Everything was going to be all right.

I don't know that anymore. I don't know that Bear's challenges are going to be met and conquered. I don't know that I will fall back in love with my husband. I don't know if he can support us, when all the evidence tells me different. I don't know that I should quit. I know my son needs me. But I don't know how. Damn it, I don't know everything. I don't know anything.

I don't know.

All my life, I have built up my confidence. Brick by brick. By faith. By love. By strength when I didn't know I had any. Until I was accused of suffering of an overabundance of it.

But now, now I am deflated and sad and scared.

I don't know.

I was talking with my manager today, and I just said bluntly look - the deadline on this next milestone is being moved back and while it seems reasonable - hey, I just want out of here.

Yeah, he said. Yeah, he understood.

These past 6 months have shattered more than my career. This series of bad bosses and bad assignments have shattered me. Until I want to claw at my own insides, trying to shake myself awake because this feels like a long, dim sleep.

I got on a plane with no money once, no idea, but sure I was headed towards my life.

I walk into the doors of my home now, and I can't find my life anywhere.

I think I've made a decision, but I don't know if it is the right one. I want to be Bear's mother, to help him and parent him and love him - instead, I feel his small arm around me. His eyes grow quiet.

Hey Bear, I say - don't you worry about all this. I'm the mommy, it's my job to make this all right.

You're the mommy, he says. And we're a family.

And I hold him, and cry, and try not to. Because he's so little and this is nothing he should feel responsible for. He deserves better, but I don't know how to give it to him. I've been doing it all, which means I've been doing it all badly - because even though he thinks I am - I'm not a superhero.

And I want to stroke his hair and promise, that everything is going to be all right.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:29 PM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
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