I’m afraid I don’t have time to post a thoughtful entry today. It’s not like I’m sitting here with nothing to write about. On the contrary, I have a million things I want to share with you; I just haven’t had time to sit down and articulate them.
I barely had a moment to myself last weekend, with the Las Vegas Writers Conference and all, and then I had to submit my latest Living-Las-Vegas article last night before midnight. I probably shouldn’t say it, but it’s a piece of shit. I always seem to wait until the last goddamn minute, as if I haven’t known all along exactly when the deadline would be. I hope the site’s editor can somehow salvage it. I hate handing in crap.
I’ve been going, going, going… and it seems that so much of my time is spent doing things I really don’t want to do. Work is sucking big-time lately; it’s all I can do to force myself to show up, much less fake a smile. Enthusiasm is simply out of the question. Yeah, I know I should be happy to have a source of income at a time when so many people are losing theirs, but staring at gray cubicle walls all fucking day is making me mental. I have so many more important, more meaningful things to do.
I don’t think I ever told you this. About 10 years ago when I was a contractor for GE I went through such a severe “work sucks” period, I actually toyed with the idea of going into rehab. Not that I had a drug or alcohol problem in real life; I just wanted a month off from work. I had it all figured out. At the time I had awesome insurance that would cover almost all of the expenses of a 28-day program and I’d be able to collect short-term disability pay the whole time. Not to mention all the interesting new friends I’d make.
Well, my real-life friends talked me out of that one—God knows why—but I did have a Plan B. For the previous year or so, I had had a gigantic uterine fibroid which was causing super heavy periods. My gyno said, “Yeah, we can take it out or not—it’s up to you.” Then one day when I could stand not one more day of work, I called to find out how much disability time I could get if I opted for the surgery. When I was told I could get eight weeks, you betcha, I booked me a date for a myomectomy. My surgery was on July 1, I was in the hospital for two nights, and was feeling fine a week later. I returned to work all refreshed just before Labor Day. Eight pounds lighter, I might add.
And that, kids, is how your friend Linda Lou spent the summer of 1999.
Back then I was a mere 41 years old; now at 51, I wouldn’t want to put myself though elective surgery of any kind. But work is really unbearable these days. Hmmm… anyone for rehab?
16 comments:
I'm feeling exactly the same about work right now, it's literally like I drag myself in and really snarl and get annoyed if anyone gives me any work to do.
It's definately time to go when you get to that stage even though I'm grateful to still be earning a wage.
Hope you find a light at the end of the tunnel soon!
Well, Jazzy Cazy... looks like I got me a rehab buddy! Anyone care to join us?
Damn, wonder if a face lift could get me any kind of disability? I mean come on, I'm doing the world a public service by fixing this crap up!
LOL Linda, I needed a good laugh this morning.
In 31 days, you will have 2 crazy women in your home.
You may need some time off after they leave for a pysch eval;)
Hmm, not sure about rehab. Somehow I don't think it's as glamorous and humorous as the movies.
But I would totally go in for some cosmetic surgery. It's not as cool as your female-problem-surgery, but I could use a eye & chin job. A little lipo wouldn't hurt either...
Rehab for someone who doesn't need it? I think there's a book there! And, you definitely missed out on some new and interesting friends. Right now, I'd be all about cosmetic fix-ups and/or surgery. I'm nearing a traumatic decade and need to do some serious housecleaning.
When I worked in the corporate world I thought slitting my throat would be less painful than dragging my sorry ass in there day after day - even when I had my own office. And cubicles? Whoever invented them should be sent to Guantanomo Bay for water-boarding.
Holy shit you said what I have been thinking! I'm hating my job, thinking I should have a partial hysterectomy to get some time off of work. HUM
Oh my god. You are so funny girl! I'm cracking up. I've actually been to rehab and if you get in a nice place, it's great. Like, Las Vegas Recovery Center is the bomb. It's super expensive - like $15,000 for 28 days, but if you have insurance, then all is good. Let me know when you are going - I'll head over with you. I could actually use the rehab. It could only help me. I heard the food is great too.
Loved it! You always crack me up...
you got me laughin' again...
Ah geez, can I join you on another J.O.B. sabbatical? I really couldn't care less if I ever see that place again. I mean, I am grateful to have an income, but just kill me now. Maybe one of these days I will actually get one of my novels published and I will suddenly have the money and acclaim of John Grisham. Think there's a chance? More than 10%?
Oh, man! There's a lot of us in the same boat. Yeah, we're happy to have an income, but when every day is a struggle to get out of bed, you just have to wonder WTF.
I was sitting here in my office thinking about what else I'd like to do and I wandered over to your blog. It made my morning! Today though, I'd like to really send someone else to rehab to get them out of here for a few weeks! There is one person I'd like to send out for a voiceectomy.
You are hilarious and YES I'd go to rehab too. In a flash!
I am checking my insurance right now. Why in hell didn't I think of that? Of course, I take care of other peoples' babies in my home - so I would probably lose my clientele if I had to be gone that long. They freak out if I mention that I am planning to take 3 days off to go to Vegas. 3 days - for crying out loud your kids are making me ape-shiat do you really want me having a breakdown? I think not. I can't go to rehab with you ladies, I NEED my booze at the end of the day.
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