Thursday, September 10, 2009

Christie...Please Go To The Diary Room

2 more lbs..people,... 2 more lbs!

I could congratulate myself, but I know that it is mostly the medication, so kudos to whoever invented Phenteramine...your goal is to start the process and mine is to finish....hmm, can we switch roles?

Well...another day another dollar.

Short work week, no real energy, but tons of medically fabricated energy. At work that can sometimes be a problem, because it makes me antsy and tends to set me off on mini anger tirades. I get so involved in being aggravated that after I have gotten all worked up about something and I am just about to go "Spider Monkey" I realize that I am stupid to be that angry and usually end up laughing at myself.

This week has been especially hard for me at work. A female co-worker, who used to be a good friend returned back from maternity leave. Before she had her baby she showed me her true bitchy ass, self centered, overrated colors and while I am fine and have been able to progress past a point of caring about any of it. She seems truly surprised that I am angry with her and has continued a campaign of annoying people to death about why I am so angry with her.


If you want to ride the horse...ask the horse! Don't quack at the duck...QUACK!

The real problem between us is that she has excellent self-esteem. Fantasy self-esteem, if you will! You probably know her, she does everything better than everyone. She is better than everyone.

Hey you!! reading my blog right now! Melodrama can read my blog better and should be paid twice as much for it!

I just want to scream about it sometimes, but you know what, I agreed to pretend that nothing was going on. Trying to protect her pregnant hormonal feelings. She just kept hurting mine. Better than me...should have chosen better friends...doesn't understand the struggles. If she isn't experiencing it, it doesn't exist or you are exaggerating it. I got a free pass to heaven just for sitting next to her...the only woman who ever had a baby.

It wasn't so much that she thought she was better than me, it was that she quantified it. She put a dollar figure on it, a percentage, a ranking. Like this job is soo important that you have to actually waste your time to level me?

To hear her tell it, she was having a rough pregnancy. Pregnancy is tough, I know. I was concerned as it seemed that she was having pre-partum depression if possible, but general consensus was not to broach the subject because NO ONE and I mean NO ONE wanted to feel that wrath. I suppose this is why I was sent OVER the edge when I found out that she had been making comments about physical ability vs. laziness during my pregnancy with my youngest.
She questioned my physical ability to walk vs. just being a lazy fat ass.

I was a 7 months pregnant, sciatic nerve suffering, Insulin shot taking, every bone aching heifer, and at 317lbs, just in case you are reading....NO I could not walk to the cafeteria, nor could I walk a flight of steps without issues. I feel like justice was kind of served if she truly felt her pregnancy difficult.

Here's where it gets hairy. I do not wish to speak with her other than in the course of my job. I do not want to exchange pleasantries, I do not want to know how she is doing and I do not want to respond when she asks me. I have written a trial letter to her and I have shown it to others. Some say send it...some say it's too harsh. I am posting it on my notes on Facebook, so if you get a chance to read it...drop a line give me your opinion...maybe I'll write a nasty note for you one day. : )

I have suffered pain at her hands for long enough and she is aware.

She made a decision not to try to make it better. It's better to play the martyr than be the hero.
There is no hero for me to be and I refuse to be the martyr.

I said I was calling my counselor...can somebody remind me what I did with her number?

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