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Monday, March 08, 2010

i am damaged, at best

It's my own doing, but things are happening in a very strange succession around me right now. My blood pressure is not good today. I'm partially afraid that my legs are going to start swelling and instead of feet I will once again wind up with slabs of putty that sort of almost fit inside my shoes.

I just want to be...normal. I just want to be a 27yo woman worrying about turning 28. Worrying about normal routine career issues without the added bullsh*t about how to juggle health with work with desperately wanting to be a mommy but also not destroy my career.

I am rambling right now. It seems like lately that's all I can muster. When my head is on straight and I know I should try to write something logical and calm, I just...can't. And now at times like this where I am a mess (thanks Ambien!) I am ready to have all my feelings spilled over.

Can I tell you two things? I'm thankful. Thankful for so much I have, so many of the people in my life and the wonderful opportunities.....The other thing is that sometimes I feel so totally lost. Like I don't know where I'm going careerwise...will I forever be a back office peon monkey? Will I ever be more? And like about becoming a mother, will I slowly turn into one of those bitter old infertility bloggers (you know who you are)? Always wanting and feeling like it's my time and then it's not and the bitterness grows, rinse, recycle, repeat....

I need to find a way to turn this into something more structured....tomorrow.

broken heart, that's still beating

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wingless was still breathing at 8:47 PM - 0 comments

Sunday, February 21, 2010

the pee has hit the fan

I am so disappointed tonight. In myself. In my body. For something I'm not even sure I really have any control over. But I still feel like I've failed somehow.

I got the results of my urinalysis back tonight (6pm Sunday evening, I love that they post the results online) and as expected, they look...bad. Pretty bad. Kind of downright awful and now I'm really dreading the blood test results (which will probably come back tomorrow). I'm also really dreading my doctors appointment tomorrow, it feels like I've just failed a math test and I have a meeting with the teacher or something.

It's so hard to express just how frustrated and disappointed I am right now. How hard it is to live with this stupid invisible disease. Being sick on the inside and looking fine on the outside makes it so people have no understanding at all on how painful it can be, both mentally and physically. I am crestfallen, I feel like I've failed and now I'm wondering if I will ever be able to get pregnant and have biological children.

We're supposed to go on a trip up to Tahoe with some friends in a couple week and I really don't want to go because I think this is a critical time for my body in terms of healing. I don't think I should be going up into high elevations which strains me during the best of times, and of course there will be a lot of drinking and staying up late and physical exertion. We will probably cancel and it's stupid but my main concern right now is, what will we tell people? People look at me and I seem to be perfectly healthy, because I can be most of the time, it's hard to explain why I have to be so careful without feeling like an invalid.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say right now, I think I just have all this pent up frustration about living with this damn disease and the lack of understanding there is in the general population of what it is and what people with lupus can and can't do.

I've always experienced this fear about telling people because I don't want them to think I am a liability at work (I'm not) or that it affects my career in any way (it doesn't and won't). But then when I'm pushed to do the same things as other people my age (go out, take trips, etc.) I don't know what to say. Because I do have to be so much more careful and aware...

And now I'm just freaked out over this whole trying to have a baby thing. Sigh. I'm trying to see the silver lining in this as being able to focus on adopting our first child rather than getting pregnant with one, but I'm also kind of sick of always having to find the silver lining in shit.

I wish I was a little kid so I could lie on the floor and cry and pound my fists and yell about how unfair this all is. I guess this blog will just have to suffice.

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wingless was still breathing at 7:38 PM - 2 comments

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I should have been a vet

Taz is spending the night in a luxury oxygen cage with lots of soft blankets under her and bags of IV fluid.

What's wrong with her you might ask?

So far the answer is: nothing. Bloodwork? Normal. Ridiculously expensive chest x-rays? Normal.

Not normal: breathing too fast (100 breaths per min) and a mild cat fever (103.8).

So it looks like I may be spending thousands and thousands of my hard earned money to realize that there is nothing wrong with my cat other than that she might have eaten something that didn't agree with her.

And that her owner is cuckoo.

Why do I do this to myself. I hope it makes me feel better though, just to know that she IS okay.

And when will my sleeping pills finally kick in.

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wingless was still breathing at 9:42 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Day 2: a peak at my neurosis

Geez, day 2 and I almost decided to just scrap the whole thing. When did blogging get so hard? Okay, it's not, I'm just tired (when am I not?).

I had this whole post planned out in my head, about competitiveness and how I've realized that I've become insanely competitive, mainly having to do with this being the first time in my life I'm not 100% sure I can compete with the people I'm trying to impress.

Actually I don't even know if "competitive" is the right word. Maybe I should call it a feeling of abject terror at the thought of failing. Like to the point where when I realize I haven't done something up to expectations my palms start to sweat and I feel like I'm going to throw up. Yes, really.

Then I realized, I don't have much else to say about the topic beyond that. That I have developed this unhealthy obsession to succeed at something and sometimes I don't even know why. Actually I do know why - because I want to be the best, dammit, and I'm not sure I can be and just thinking that thought makes me twitch.

Confession: Sometimes at work I have to stop what I'm doing for a moment and type out the lyrics to a praise song. It's the only way to calm myself down when I'm on the brink of totally flipping out (in my head only, of course) over some perceived colossal failure that (hopefully) is just a small oops in reality. It helps me remind myself that God doesn't care about any of the stuff that's stressing me out, so ultimately why should I?

Do I sound totally neurotic yet? Yes? I thought so.

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wingless was still breathing at 7:27 PM - 0 comments

Friday, April 24, 2009

quietly driving myself insane

So I'm still here in Where-Is-My-Period hell and because I am a horrible person I am waiting for it with a glass of wine. I thought I had a sighting this morning but it turned out to be a false alarm so we are now T minus 6-8 days and counting. But who's counting right? (Oh yeah, ME).

I'm still 99% sure I am not pregnant (hence the glass of wine, though I did pour myself a small glass) but I am also sort of mentally cataloging all the things I've done in the last month or so that one is not supposed to do while gestating. And I'm talking beyond the aforementioned Class D drugs (also known as drugs with High Fetal Risk, all caps, just like that, look it up).

Imagining for a moment that this gestation business has been going on since Hawaii, there has been plenty of alcohol, sitting with smoking coworkers, allowing my husband to smoke his Cubans in the apartment and even taking a couple puffs, raw oysters, raw fish, at least one can of Coke a day, sleeping pills here and there, I'm pretty sure one tablet of Sudafed, and oh dear God, please let me get my period NOW because if I don't, this kid is doomed. Oh yeah, and I've been scooping the litter box and accidentally touched some cat poo the other day. Great.

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wingless was still breathing at 5:46 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, October 23, 2008

this is how i'm going to drive myself crazy

It's been a long time since I've cried. In fact, I believe it's been over a year, not since my friend E's funeral.

This may not be a very long time for some people, but I remember a time when I used to cry practically every day. Partly because I just cry really damn easily (e.g. the time I cried over a Life With Louie episode - the cartoon) but also because I used to be generally miserable and depressed.

Since I met Paul four years ago, I rarely cry. Somehow that seemingly unshakeable monkey on my back, the depression I'd felt my entire life just went away. Disappeared into thin air. The odd thing is that the depression never really made sense, I don't know that it was ever really about anything, so how can being with someone make it go away? I'm not sure. I've had boyfriends pretty much continuously since I was 13 and that never seemed to help before...

Anyway, that isn't the point of this post. Lately, I've just been feeling so crushed, I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread. Why? I don't know, it's just work in the end right? It doesn't make sense for me to get so emotional over it, but I am. And I feel like I really need to be able to cry over it but I'm so far removed from those days that I'm afraid to. I keep telling myself to stay positive, look at the bright side of things, but I really just want to curl up in a ball and sob myself to sleep. Part of me thinks it might even be good for me. What I'm doing now might just be setting myself up for something truly embarrassing like cracking at work and bursting out into tears over some tiny, insignificant trade issue when I finally can't hold it in anymore.

But then, I'm scared. I'm scared that if I let myself feel that way again I won't be able to stop. I don't think that will happen but what if it does? I don't know. I'm just so afraid to let myself feel sad.

And I tell myself, my life isn't so bad, I have it better than a lot of people. And I do, I know I do and I really appreciate how good things are relative to how they could be...but does that mean I don't have a right to be upset? We all have to live in our own lives right? Do I have to feel guilty about feeling bad that things aren't going the way I want them to just because things could be a lot worse?

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wingless was still breathing at 8:57 PM - 3 comments

Thursday, October 16, 2008

fcuk me

So I've been back from my foray into Asia for about a week now. Back at work since Tuesday. And I can honestly say, I haven't slept more than a couple hours a night all damn week. On top of that I've been working 12-13 hour days and was basically told that very soon my current job won't be my job anymore.

I think it's only due to sheer exhaustion that I haven't had a complete mental breakdown yet.

The one glimmer of good news is that I may have a decent shot of getting another position within the firm, possibly an even better position than the one I have now - but also a more demanding one. So I'm looking at either being unemployed or working well over 60+ hours a week.

Somebody shoot me.

Oh and if one more person who has no effing clue tells me I shouldn't worry since I'm part of the firm that took over (the other firm) I think my head is going to explode.

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wingless was still breathing at 5:42 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, September 18, 2008

one of those days that makes substance abuse seem really, really appealing

You know, I know every job has its off days, but seriously? I feel like I've just been punched in the head by a sumo wrestler. An extra big one.

You don't want to know what my day consisted of, but let's just say when you're dealing with crap that involves numbers with six to nine zeros after them...things can get Stressful. Or STRESSFUL!!! even. It doesn't help that tensions are high for everyone in the company, what with the feeling of impending doom floating around everywhere and everyone wondering if their jobs are the ones that are going to be identified as "overlap" (which is just a euphemism for, see you at the unemployment line!). Yeah, good times right?

So anyway, I am finally home. After only an eleven hour work day (and when I say eleven hours I mean eleven hours, like I got up to pee twice and that was pretty much it). It would have been a twelve hour day except I forgot to set my alarm last night and woke up to my cell phone vibrating next to my head and my coworker going "UH?" So yeah, even though I got to sleep for an extra hour, no my day did not start off well and it kind of just got worse from there.

Somehow I don't see things getting better anytime soon either. But luckily I am going on a two and a half week vacation next week! The only question is whether or not my key-card will still work when I get back. Or if the office will even still be there. You know, whateve's....

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wingless was still breathing at 5:21 PM - 0 comments

Friday, February 22, 2008

the moment we all realized, hey maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all

So Paul and I were in Mammoth over the weekend. And as awful as most of the experience was, I have to say the worst part of all was driving past the ski resorts in Lake Tahoe. At midnight. Halfway into our trip.

Going from California to California by way of Nevada is fun too.

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wingless was still breathing at 5:16 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Random things

  • I feel pretty bad for the poor guy who married this crazy chick.
    She says Posy Floral Design in Manhattan substituted pastel pink and green hydrangeas for the dark rust and green ones she had specified for 22 centerpieces.

    Not only that, she alleges that the hydrangeas were wilted and brown, and arranged in dusty vases without enough water.

    "The use of predominantly pastel centerpieces had a significant impact on the look of the room and was entirely inconsistent with the vision the plaintiffs had bargained for," Glatt, a lawyer, said in the lawsuit, filed on behalf of herself, her husband, David, and her mother-in-law, Tobi Glatt, who paid for the flowers.

    The flowers cost $27,435.14. The lawsuit asks for more than $400,000 in restitution and damages.

    Yeesh. Talk about focusing on the wrong thing here, lady. Did you get married? Does it significantly alter the course of your life? I mean, seriously?

    Anyone surprised she's a lawyer?

  • Since I work at a trading desk for an investment bank there are not a lot of other females around. In fact, there's one saleswoman, our admin and yours truly. So I work with a bunch of guys who all happen to be happily married, engaged or moving in with their gf's. This works out well for me since I too am married, and it probably gives us all more in common since no one's really out and about partying all the time. Not like we could with our hours though. Anyway...

  • Today was better than yesterday. Thank God. I wanted to post this yesterday but I just couldn't even bring myself to talk about work at all yesterday. Not even a little bit. It was that bad. I kind of just left. I still had a few things I could have done but my friend who gives me a ride home was leaving and for a brief moment I thought about staying and waiting for my trade to match (good thing I didn't since it didn't match until this morning) and walking or taking the bus home. And I thought about the last time I waited and stayed until like 4:30 for the TA's to just book the damn trade already...and I couldn't do it.

    And then of course I felt bad about leaving. And worried something horrific would happen because of the unmatched trade. Which was really, really unlikely. But this did not prevent the worrying.

    Everything was fine and no one else even really seemed to notice it until I called this morning wondering what was going on there. And it matched and settled and the world was in balance once again. There were no fire drills today, no staring intently back and forth between the clock and your email/bloomberg waiting for a response because the deadline is approaching and it's a REAL deadline not one of those "eh" deadlines, but like a serious deadline where you WILL BE CUT OFF at this time. Period. End of statement. Absolutely no exceptions. And there are exactly six minutes left and OH MY GOD. I can't talk about that anymore.

    Let's just leave it at, today was better than yesterday.

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    wingless was still breathing at 3:50 PM - 0 comments

    Monday, June 25, 2007

    Call me crazy, no seriously

    So I briefly mentioned the fact that I now have a job in my last post. I should have been more specific - it's an offer. And now I will go into all of the anxiety that has surrounded and continues to surround said offer.

    I spoke with the recruiter last, last Tuesday and was told the offer would likely arrive on Saturday. Since we were in Los Angeles for my little sister's graduation last, last weekend I didn't find out until we returned on Sunday that there was no offer to be found. I then proceeded to call my mom and sister ten times on Monday and once 3pm came and went and the nice FedEx man was nowhere to be seen I called Mr. Recruiter Man who told me that all the important people with the ability to sign the offer were away at important meetings and the offer would be sent tomorrow. And I'd receive it on Wednesday.

    That was okay, until Wednesday came and went and I bothered my mom and Candace all day and they received nothing (except some wedding checks!) and then Thursday came and was starting to went but I called Mr. Recruiter Man and pestered him once again and he was like, "So sorry! Important people were still gone! But now they're back! And one of them signed! And offer is SERIOUSLY in the mail this time!"

    And so, the offer arrived on Friday. But that's not the end of the story! The offer has my name most places (e.g. under signature line) except in the greeting it says "Dear Kristin." Which of course sent me into a tailspin of, oh my GOD this whole time they've been meaning to hire someone named Kristin! Except that doesn't make sense because my name is filled in correctly most places on the offer.

    Anyway, beyond that I've now got a whole new set of worries. First, the reference check. The recruiting company I worked for said they'd be happy to give me a good reference but who really knows. The position was left off my resume and never brought up in interviews, but I did mention it to the recruiter briefly with an extremely vague answer as to why exactly I left...but...I'm just freaked out. Maybe I have no reason to be, but I have this problem with worrying and over-thinking things and seriously? My hair is falling out. It has been for awhile now. And I've been constipated for like two months and now I'm getting this weird rash on my face. Two weeks before the wedding! Awesome!

    So yeah, that's the first thing. Second thing, my Master's degree. I don't technically have it yet, although I am done with all the coursework. Technically I need to work for three months before they will actually give me the degree so will my education check come up funky? Is this even something I need to worry about? I'm not sure. But I am worrying anyway. Because that's just how I roll.

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    wingless was still breathing at 1:15 AM - 3 comments

    Wednesday, April 11, 2007

    Can't get myself to go away

    I'm by myself in the apartment today and I am reminded of just how much I hate being alone. Something about the silence, and myself, is absolutely terrifying. I miss my cat.

    Luckily it's a beautiful day outside. I think I will go get lost in Paris. Maybe take some pictures, if y'all are lucky.

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    wingless was still breathing at 3:54 AM - 0 comments

    Tuesday, April 10, 2007

    The inner workings of lunacy

    I'm a fraud.

    Okay, perhaps that's a bit harsh. Fraud may not be the right word.

    Chicken shit.

    There that's better.

    I received an email a few minutes ago from a recruiter from a major global investment firm wanting to know when I'm available for a phone interview and I can't breathe.

    This is what I've been waiting for, what I've been bitching and whining for and I can't even bring myself to reply to the email because oh my GOD what am I going to say? How am I going to explain myself? I don't know anything. What if they ask me a question and I can't answer? How quickly am I going to flush this opportunity down the toilet?

    And I can't figure out why I react this way. Why I have so little faith in myself when I'm so good at giving everyone else the necessary pep talks? How can this be?

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    wingless was still breathing at 11:52 AM - 0 comments

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