Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Future Might Look Non-Existent, But At Least I Have a Manly Accessory To Go With It Oh dear goodness I just can't stop! I seized in the lab/work world, but I am on the roll everywhere else. 5/ Monday, 4.12.2010. Boredom chased me away from home to work, with each painful breath (HOW THE HELL DID I FALL?!), I accepted the pity hugs and the pity small talks. I was a sensation. I decided that although most of these people never talk to me except when I pull some interesting stuff, I will use this to my advantage. I considered the benefits: free food, extended date for the orals, hugs, ATTENTION. Stan hugged me because he had nothing else to do. Boss excited to see me, called me into his office and closed the door. He smiled. Ahh more pity!!! I sucked it up and took a ride on the pity train. "So, is everything okay?" Peachy. "We thought you were going to die!" Just a seizure. "No, previously, you were� not yourself." Yea, they told me I was gonna die. "Well, we are happy you're better, we love you, you know." ?! "But I am mad at you." Well, he does not waste time, does he?! In all of my years in random place appointments and random jobs I performed, never had I had a boss mad at me. They all loved me. But this one, this one tells me he loves me because I am part of this family, but he is mad at me. I am sorry, I say. Better to apologize before, than later. So I was in trouble. I didn't tell him I seize here and there, and it didn't matter that it never happens during the day, because see, although this random happen-stance was a freak seizure indicating a trivial problem that could have ironically killed me. It didn't matter, because it happened and it happened in lab. And nobody knew I was epileptic. So now, I am in trouble because although it is not against the law for epileptics to hold such jobs (DISCRIMINATION?!) but the proper people (aka BOSS) should be aware of these. He pushes Puffs tissues towards me. I shook my head, I am not crying. Shut up! I scratch my eye wells with my forearms that bear the battle wounds (with the obvious IV victories). See, so now, now, the safety department is involved. Now they will have a talk with me while flashing their badges beforehand. They will scream at me, I will turn the water works, I will apologize profusely, make promises I won't deliver, sign some papers, and it will be forgotten. As a master in transitioning between different conversation topics, the boss told me I will have a major increase in pay from the gov't. The boss tells me that as I was stretched out in the ambulance, them DoD people called and said I am being kidnapped by them for the summer. Great timing. It is a done deal and I must not make other deals with other people, like them at DHS. Good news, eh? Chilling in the sweltering sun of DC, working with them gov't people, and being generally an awesome chemist? No, NOT GOOD news! Because those fools don't know I am epileptic and I happen to seize from time to time. If they find out, there is a chance I will lose the position, because the job I will be required to do is a sensitive job. I am a chemist, I should know, shut up. And with losing this measly summer position, I will lose the deal we had (upon getting PhD I move my ass there to spread my genius in their lab). Splendid. I will have to be a housewife. Dr. Housewife, PhD. She will clean your house wearing only heels and lingerie while holding her diploma in one hand and swiffer duster in the other. To finish, he gives me the sternest look possible (even more stern then when he expressed his disdain with me) and states: "Stan is good to you." I shift my head to the side, the information weighed me down, I say Huh? "He is really good to you. You do not even know how good you have it." Confused, I took this the most negative way I could: In layman's words, you do not deserve him. Then I was kicked out. 6/ Sometime b/n Monday and Friday 4.12-16.2010. I made a fool out of myself. I thanked someone. I did a good deed. I did a bad deed. I made someone jealous. I made someone happy. I committed an act that to this day surprises me by its stupidity. Stan and I became an item. <-And these will be discussed later; now, I am tired, cranky, annoyed, and not in the very least shopped out. 3:34 a.m. - April 18, 2010 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||