So sick of this job?

I feel like there must be something wrong with me.

I've been parking wherever I felt like for a long time. Facilities finally got fed up and sent one of their security minions upstairs to let me know that should I do that again, my little grocery getter shall be unceremoniously towed. That was last week. Ok, no problem. I parked legally today. And when they sent their minion, of course I didn't get upset or persnickety with him. You break the rules, there are going to be consequences, end of story.

Sooooo everything's going swimmingly, right? My supervisor comes up to my cube this morning and mentions that she heard through the grapevine that I've been parking illegally and that it's a serious infraction and not something you want on your record here. Parking is a serious infraction? You've got to be kidding. Oh God, here we go again. It's already done and over with so I don't understand why people are still wasting energy over this. Well, you break the rules, there are going to be consequences. Have a nice day, Secretary!

Why can't I just follow the dang rules around here? Why must I always be so rebellious? I'm not special, this world doesn't revolve around me, and why can't I get that through my head?

There are no excuses for consciously breaking the rules. You cannot do so and then expect nothing to happen. But I will say that I feel much less valued here when I'm being picked on for jeans and makeup. Especially when I see Twiggy wearing an entire denim outfit today. And it's not Friday, folks.

But at the same time, I have trouble believing that I'm just somehow being picked on, even when someone out and out tells me that Napoleon just doesn't like fat people. Sometimes I think, well if there was nothing wrong with me and what I'm doing, then I would not be recieving all this attention. (Of course, the parking thing is not being picked on. Something about consequences...).

I just do not belong here, I sometimes think.

The Secret

Have you heard all the buzz about 'The Secret'?

Hey, I've got a secret for you. For free. Yes, that's right, I'm happy to do my fellow man a major favor at no cost.

HOW TO EAT CHEETOS WITHOUT GETTING NEON ORANGE STUFF ON YOUR FINGERS
Basically, you just need to make sure your fingers always remain dry. Never touch your mouth with your fingers and don't lick them in between Cheetos. Have your napkin at the ready to ensure finger-dryness.

Ok so this book "The Secret" came out and it's a Christian industry thing. Yes, I said INDUSTRY. Just like "The Purpose-Drive Life" became an industry and still is. Well, apparently, this book tells you that all you have to do to be happy is be in complete submission to the Will of God. It's also a marketing tool, forgot that.

Well, let me let you in on a little secret. You can get this information, a book that gives you step-by-step instructions on doing this, and free coaching and support all by attending a 12-step meeting. This SECRET was already figured out back in the 20's by a little group known as Alcoholics Anonymous.

Oh and the Muslims already knew this secret also. In fact, they discovered this secret about 1500 years ago when a fellow named Muhammad spent about 23 years taking dictation from God in a cave. This dictation became a book called the Quran. The word Islam means peace, which, according to Muslims, is achieved through complete submission to the will of God, whom they call Allah.

So basically it's not a secret. But people are always looking for some book or self-help work that will fill their God-sized holes...

Dress Code

Soooo...I work in an office with a professional dress code. Great, no problem. I'm happy to comply. It used to be that I had no idea how to dress professionally, and no motivation to brush my teeth let alone dress properly for work. But nowadays, I both brush my teeth every day and dress professionally. I've invested in my wardrobe and while it's not as dapper as some people's, it's decent and meets the dress code.

On Fridays we are allowed to dress in business casual attire. I have a brand new pair of dark black jeans that fit perfectly, neither too tight nor too loose, and I usually wear those on Friday with a top that I wear during the week, usually a light orange cableknit sweater with 3/4 sleeves. It looks good on me. I've gotten a lot of compliments on it. Twiggy also wears colored jeans on Fridays. Colored jeans are specifically mentioned as being acceptable in our dress code.

Well on Thursday of this last week, my supervisor was busy making much ado about nothing as usual and wanted to meet with me about something inconsequential. I hate it when she does that. She practically gives me an ulcer over nothing. So we cleared up the little bit of nothing she called a frickin meeting about and then she tells me that Napoleon has issued an edict that I shall no longer be able to wear my black jeans to work on Fridays. That he's gotten comments from other people about it, etc.

Did I also mentioned that Napoleon ordered that my cube be reconfigured so that it is completely walled in again? Yes indeedy folks. Apparently, it is disruptive to have me be able to speak to others. Sales people were congregating by my cubicle and being loud and I heard Twiggy tell someone who'd asked her for the lowdown that, 'Well, you know, her voice carries...'. Betch. Well last week was when this magical event actually took place. So we have the jeans thing and the cubicle thing all at once.

I was not too happy about the jeans. I think my reaction to my supervisor was, "What the hell?" I just felt really picked on. Like, why can't this guy leave me alone? Next sentence, "I will just say that I think that it's very difficult for employees to know what the rules are when they only exist in the minds of this company's executives."

So again I just felt really picked on. So I talk with my favorite director, SeaBee. She lets me know that Napoleon is a pig who does not like fat people. Niiice. So now I feel even worse. I cannot overcome someone's ignorance and bigotry. Don't like me because I'm late everyday, don't like me because I call in to work every so often, don't like me because I surf the web too much, but please don't decide I'm worthless because I'm fat. Because I cannot lose weight for you or for a job.

I go home that night and cry on the Makistani's shoulder. He's so understanding and tries to comfort me. Bless his heart, he didn't say anything stupid. Check this out, it works better when you tell someone what they ought avoid saying, for example, "And DO NOT tell me that fat people get paid less and get discriminated against and that if I don't want that that I ought to lose weight!" He just says and does the right things.

Friday morning comes along and I dress in different pants, same top as usual, arrive at work and notice that Twiggy is wearing jeans, then I go and show my supervisor and ask her if anything's wrong with my appearance. Since she's in some fairyland thinking that I want to move up in this company, she says to me, "You should really wear some makeup if you want to make a good impression."

WHAT? Ok I wear makeup sometimes, but I only wear it when I bloody well feel like it and it's not covered in the dress code. So forget it, I'm not wearing it, especially because I can't now that you just told me I should! Dangit!!!! LOL I cannot look like I'm giving in to the s*xist alpha males that run this department and this company! Then the Makistani called and asked me out for lunch so I put on some makeup for him. :o) He tried really hard to say nothing stupid, but one thing slipped out, something about that they pick on people whom they're about to fire. I immediately forgave him. He tries so hard.

Anyway, I went home that night and tried to forget about this stupid week and get a more positive attitude back so that I could function. This week I am doing much better. It's so funny that I whined incessantly to so many people about this stupid thing and last week all I got was, well slap some makeup on. What's the big deal? This morning one friend called me back whom I had called last week while depressed and her answer was completely different, "DOCUMENT IT! They can't make you wear makeup!!!" lol. Well I guess this documents it.

I don't know why the happenings of last week threw me off so badly. I felt so depressed. Maybe it was because I felt like I was doing the best I could and it still wasn't good enough. Maybe it was the brush with discrimination. Well I am not going to get fired over a pair of pants so whatever on that. I am working on getting a degree right now so I can leave the world of secretaries once and for all. Then maybe I won't have to work in a department full of s*xists again. Maybe there is less s*xism in a bigger city, like Chicago...

War and Peace

Yesterday I took some checks downstairs to the CreditNazi, also known as the DealKiller, also known as Teresa. She's on the 3rd floor. After stopping by her desk, I tooled 'round to the elevators. I was about to step onto the elevator, but then I got a nudge to stop by my friend's office. We'll call her Tummy Tuck as she got gastric bypasss a while back and then had a tummy tuck. Here's a link to a story about her before...http://asecretaryslife.blogspot.com/2007/09/bariatric-surgery-is-gamble.html

Moving right along...

I saw TummyTuck yesterday and she talked about how desperate she is feeling because she is gaining weight. Why, yes she is. She feels helpless. At that weight, you can barely eat anything. She is worried about getting her tummy back and many other things.

The feeling of helplessness I sensed from her is palpable. I didn't have much to tell her except to give her food to God everyday. She's still dieting, she's going to Weight Watchers, she's excercising, she's limiting her foods, she's obsessing over her food. She's snapping at her husband and she's calling him stupid. She notices that when she refrains from doing that, her husband is nicer to her.

Textbook case of compulsive eating. An alcoholic in his cups is not a pretty thing, and neither is a compulsive eater in her food. She hates herself because of her weight, and she takes it out on her long-suffering husband.

I just told her that it sounds like she feels powerless over food and her life is unmanageable. The whole thing is just really sad.

And what's even sadder is that I can relate to every bit of it. I can relate to snapping at my husband and treating him horridly. I used to act *just* like that when I was married. And it's because I was in my addiction and food was my god.

She tried to tell me something about how some Dr. soandso from the Celebrity Fit Club or something was on Ellen the other day and Ellen was talking about how she was getting ready for the Oscars again by trying to get fit and lose some weight. She had followed the food plan exactly, done the exercise, and she had gained weight. Dr. Soandso soothes the audience, telling them that there is no limit to what stress can do to our lives. Well FYI Dr. Soandso, it ain't stress. Weight gain is a simple matter of more coming in than is going out. Simple. It's not anymore complicated than that.

I just pray that Tummytuck will realize that she is an addict and that she needs to get better.