Jun. 26th, 2012

lioritgiyoret: (Default)
So we heard from the vet about the cat's cytology; it's lymphoma.

Also got given an "informal" written warning at work that I am not permitted to be late for work again, mainly because I took yesterday off. On the one hand, yes, it is perfectly and entirely generous of them to let me work the flexible 10 to 6 schedule and I ought to be grateful and hold up my end of things by never, ever being late. I am late a lot, i.e., about once a week.

On the other hand, I'll just say it: I'm not used to jobs where that's what matters. I'm certainly not used to jobs where it matters so much more than anything else. I was explicitly told it matters more than a) the quality of my work; b) any kind of humane consideration about, oh, you know, dealing with a dying cat and a very sad boyfriend; c) reason and/or sense. It's like some kind of arcane demonstration of loyalty. And of course my reasons for being late seem complicated and personal.

I mean, I'm already feeling crappy enough about my life and about this job. The combination of actually having the job at risk (over something I am genuinely just bad at,) with the fact that this thing that I'm bad at is actually more important than the part I'm good at, well...

Well, I guess I'm just tired of not hacking it at underemployment. I miss being good at stuff and I miss doing stuff I'm good at.

And the cat's still got lymphoma.
(Not at all sure why this whole thing is displaying in bold italic.)


lioritgiyoret: (Default)

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