We're expected to get lots and lots of snow today, which I suppose is ok. I have to connect with the notion that the winter is ALMOST over (thank thank thank GOD!), and spring is nearly on its way-- so I have to keep telling myself that the snow is a temporary novelty; pretty, fluffy, and the last remaining illusion of a fleeting season (wahoo!).
Winter normally drains every last ounce of humanity from me-- generally, I make all sorts of terrible, rash decisions round about now (i..e. pull the kids out of school, put the kids back in school, quit jobs, etc and etc. And it's not nearly the fact that they aren't always the best decisions, but usually the methods I employ are what's regrettable. 'Nuff said). Pharmacologically speaking, I've been well armed this year to keep myself from jumping off the deep end, and I've done ok. Sometimes I do wonder why so much stupid BS happens this time of year (everyone else in the region losing their minds and behaving badly? Probably..) My co-worker at one of my many jobs has been driving me up a tree for really most of the time I've worked with her-- and I do wholeheartedly acknowledge that she is out of her gourd, which is sad (for her, and for everyone around her, unfortunately). But she has been such a royal PITA this past week (on my BIRTHDAY no less), flying off the handle for no apparent reason and not telling what the trouble is (yet feeling compelled to share the info with the boss-- I HATEHATEHATE that crybaby nonsense. Be adult enough to tell a co worker what's going on so it can be rectified directly, instead of running off to tattle. I still have no idea what happened in the rampant hallucinations of her angry mind...)
Anyhoo: it's all well and good that I'm being run off, in the grand scheme of things. I wasn't told in the beginning that I would be expected to work Saturdays (with absolutely no help around. I have no trouble working a weekend now and again, but the safety issue really gets to me), do chemo (with poor folks who so far haven't spoken anything close to english: not even a "no hablo espanol". So far, it's been "no hablo armenian or hmong"-- and I can't come even an iota close to faking my way through THOSE languages. Yeesh.) I'd have to place PICC lines (no freaking way. I see how traumatized those gals look when they come back from putting those monstrosities in), and this constant crazy day shuffling, as if I can't ever know more than a day (hours) in advance whether or not I'll be victim to K's "leaving early today" with no notice (and I seem to keep getting in trouble for that, which is total BS.)
I really like my new position and am looking forward to seeing if they will be able to offer me the .6 position that just came up, but I'm really hoping the "kiss of death" legacy of mine of getting wonderful jobs, only to find they are doomed (through no fault of my own-- really) ends with this Kenosha job.
(case in point, a brief History: All Saints job-- two bosses quit in the months following my hire, and all hell breaks loose. I still have nightmares about that job, where I completely lost my Mojo, which I have spent the past several years trying to recover. fruitlessly.
GTC job: wonderful boss I took the job to work with retires the week before my hire (unbekownst to me). Pandemonium ensues, and morale is shot to hell. Everyone is miserable. Racine AHC: love love love my new job, training is going well on first shift with Wonderful Doc. Soon discover that Wonderful Doc doesn't work the shifts I'll ultimately end up working (weekends, evenings, holidays. Suckity suck enough...), and I'll end up working with Scary, Drug Accomodating Doc who draws in shocking numbers of drug seekers, up to 80 a day-- patients who shake and tremble and have questionable "back pain" for which they are taking every pain med known to man, in quantities high enough to kill a horse. Eek. (this doc has had TWO seasoned, sassy nurses walk off the job and quit on the spot, right before I was hired. TWO. I had no chance with this guy.)
Kenosha job: completely love my co-workers, love the job-- boss hires 2 new co workers, one whom I adore, one who likes to share her stories of her last suicide attempt and stories of her childhood abuse and likes to tattle and leave work without telling anyone (including the boss, apparently). Then the bomb drops that we will now be working Saturdays, we will all be chemo and PICC trained, and, oh, by the way: your co-worker is crazy and has been trying to get you fired. Bleah.
I keep telling myself that perhaps I should be a stay at home mom, but my husband is the tightest man EVER and i like to spend $$ too much. So there you have it. I'm off to spoil another perfectly nice workplace with my legacy of pain.
I have to say, tho: I haven't heard so much farting and rectal expelling of fluids in all my life at my new job. I'll just have to get used to it-- and try like heck not to laugh. But it's really hard.