Two Faced Adulthood

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single person in possession of a college degree is in want of a job.

But the job we eventually find is rarely the job we want. We begin our “real world” indoctrination at a sub-par job and, as a consequence, learn workforce etiquette in less than ideal conditions.

We learn that we are wage slaves, that the boss owns our time. Time cards are our shackles and cubicles are our prisons.

We learn that it doesn’t matter that our family members died, our pets are missing, our cars are out of gas, or that our best friend has cancer. As soon as we clock in, we cease being a whole person.

One we walk in the door, we are split. We put on a mask. We are forced to pretend that we are just absolutely spiffed to be there, lest we get fired and the money we depend on dry up.

In school, your friends and (sometimes) teachers will sympathize with your situations. Your boss, however, could not care less. You are bought–you are a product, a pawn, and if you do not perform well, you will be punished.

People in the workforce are used to this atmosphere. But school kids are not. They must painfully transition from a world in which they are encouraged to succeed into a world in which they are expected to perform like a trained monkey.

The degree of respect for their talents and smarts is gone. They are left floundering, uncertain of how to behave, of how to split their very soul into two parts: the person they are and the painted porcelain of a flawless employee.



It’s sitting alone in a car, curled in a ball, feeling utterly sad for no apparent reason. It’s hiding away from everyone who knows you because you’re suddenly convinced that they no longer care.

It’s me, right now.

The worst bit is how I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop the tidal wave of sad. The second to worst bit is how I can’t tell anyone because they’ll just sigh and say something dismissive.

Depression doesn’t make sense. It isn’t rational. You can’t reason it away.

I know that the world will turn and I will eventually be happy again. A few days, maybe, or a few hours from now, I will feel better.

I just hate that I feel myself on this terrifying downward spiral and I can’t seem to do anything to reverse it.

Social Media and your Job

I learned a very valuable lesson that I’m going to share.  It’s about workplaces, freedom of speech, and social media.

The lesson is this: when it comes to work, you don’t have freedom of speech.

But isn’t that a constitutional right? 

Yes, yes it is.  But that doesn’t seem to matter to employers much when they fire your ass for saying something stupid on facebook or twitter.

There are some laws in place that prohibit employers from firing you over stuff you said, but that’s all conditional.  You have to have been talking negatively about work in an attempt to improve conditions in order for the laws to protect you.

Talking about how much you hate your job isn’t covered, sorry.

I also learned (the hard way) that bosses read into your statuses.  I posted a generic statement (that I won’t be repeating here) that didn’t contain the business name in any way, shape, or form.  It was a true statement, applicable to all places of business, that (I thought) reflected poorly on consumers everywhere and not specific to the business I work for.

I was very nearly fired for it.

Moral of the story: don’t post about work on social media at all.  And, as an added precaution, maybe you should set your stuff to “private” and then also not befriend your boss.  Just in case.

Life Update

Since we last spoke:

1. My job security has been threatened by the terminal illness of a doctor we partner with.

My clinic worked very closely with an ENT (Ear, Nose, and Throat) doctor.  He sent us most of our patients.  He has since been diagnosed with throat cancer (the saddest irony), and has closed up shop. As a consequence, our business has dried up.  I figure I’ll be first to go since my coworkers consist of a lady who has worked here for over twenty years and a trained audiologist that sees most of our patients.

2. My other job was stolen from me by a co-worker who was hired months after I was.

It all started with her getting some of my work in the interest of “fairness,” but now she’s getting all the work and I’m getting the shaft.  The theory is that because she’s been placed on a temporary hold from her weekday job since the “season’s slow” that she’s getting all the cleaning jobs instead of me.  The problem with this is that she most likely was put on this hold because she’s not exactly a stellar employee.

I’m trying not to be bummed about this.  I don’t think it’s working.

3. I began training for a 5k.

This you may already know since apparently my fitbit has been broadcasting my progress (and also lack thereof) for the past few weeks.  Dang.  I should figure out how to turn that off.

The idea behind this was that I’d get in shape and do the Color Me Rad in Richmond.  Even if I’m not in perfect shape for the race, it should still be a lot of fun.

4. My great grandmother passed away.

She deserves her own post, but I just can’t talk about it.  I will say it was completely heartbreaking and I’ve been sort of cross and snippy with everyone since the funeral.

In short, I’ve been busy with life and….well, I haven’t been blogging.  I’ll keep trying to post when I can, but the focus this year is on trying to lose weight/run forever.  And not blogging.

Personal Prisons

What’s separating you from being you?

My answer is “me.”

My fears, my insecurities, an overwhelming sense of inadequacy–these are the walls of my prison.

I miss out on so much of life.  And that only makes it worse, because then I beat myself up because I’m missing out on life.

I fight my fear, when I can.  And that’s what counts.

So if you’re fighting something in your life, don’t give up.

So many people have overcome so much more than I have.  People like Jenny, who have overcome crippling social anxiety to become one of the coolest people ever.  She’s awesome.

My story isn’t half as inspiring as hers.  I’m not….

Oh, hell.  I’m doing it again.

Listen, just because your story doesn’t seem as good as somebody else’s doesn’t mean that you’re not dealing with something big.  Everybody has problems, and those problems are absolutely important to that person.

And sometimes, if that person doesn’t want to be a burden then they’ll convince themselves that their issues should be hidden because they don’t have it as bad as so-and-so.

Today is the day that we all write “LOVE” on our arms in support of those who are so trapped in their prisons that they can’t fight anymore.

You’re not alone.  Not in this.  There is help.

For those of you who have struggled, are struggling, or know someone who struggles–spread some awareness today.

Check out these people, they’re awesome: To Write Love on Her Arms


I feel like some internet meme somewhere. There should be a picture of me with the words “Has Netflix: watches nothing but Saturday morning cartoons.”

P.S. This is my feeble attempt to get back into blogging.  November and December were sort of a work and holiday induced trauma for me.  January has me feeling shell shocked.  I’m feeling more and more like myself again with each day, so things should go back to normal soon.

BRB, sickness and work.

I caught some sort of crud.  It’s a lot like a cold, but with a mild fever and dizzy spells.   I also have had to work every day this past week.  So between being sick and having to work, I haven’t had time to write anything.  Which sucks.

It seems like everyone is getting sick these days.  Let’s all take care of each other this sickness season.   Kleenex and Dayquil and cough drops all around!

I’m on the mend, though.  Although my body still seems to think that it should cough every few minutes (which I find ridiculous), I’m feeling about %90 better.  Hopefully I’ll stay on the mend, because…

…last Sunday officially started the “work month of hell,” in which I will be working nearly nonstop until after Christmas.  Some of this work may entail standing outside in the freezing cold for hours while directing cars around a magical forest of lights and half-lit reindeer.  So I may never actually be able to fully recover from my cold-dizzy-sickness.

But I will try to blog every Friday.   I will also try to be grateful for the influx of cash and not be resentful for the loss of all my free time.