My Mumbling Thoughts

Last Wednesday I was on one of the wildest emotional rollercoaster rides I've been on in quite a while. It was a crazy mixture of boredom, shock, excitement, disbelief, happiness, terror and then sheer anxiety.

Yes, in that order.

**

"So you've made it upstairs now, huh, Sam? I guess they'll let anybody up here nowadays."

"Haha, very funny. And yes, I'm up here now and I don't require an escort."

"Well congratulations. It's a good feeling, isn't it?"

By that I'm sure he meant it's an overwhelming feeling. I really wasn't expecting to be cleared on that particular Wednesday, but it happened and in a blink of an eye I was sitting in the security office getting briefed, signing papers and getting my extra badges.

It wasn't until I finally took a break to go to the bathroom before lunch that I realized the full capacity of what had happened.

I was washing my hands when I looked up and saw the badges dangling from my neck. There they were. Two small, very simple badges that stood for so much. I began to get a bit emotional and was filled up to my eyes with...something. I can't even say what it was. Patriotism perhaps, pride, and just proud to be officially serving my country in my small way.

I took a deep breath, composed myself, and marched out feeling special and grateful for something that I never asked for or understood until that very moment.

The lab and I decided to celebrate at Ruby's since Uncle Ric and I got cleared on the same day.

Me: "I hear that y'all have gone corporate now, Kevin. Is this rumor true?"

Kevin: "I'm afraid so, yes. As Ric says, 'we're no longer the red headed step child.' They've actually given us work to do."

Me: "What? Work? Where am I going to hang out now?"

Well nowhere after that lunch. After I made my way back downstairs around three o'clock that afternoon, M waved me into his office and asked me to sit down.

Me: "What's wrong? Why do you look so worried?"

M: "It appears that we have a problem."

Me: "What do you mean? What kind of problem?"

M: "J isn't too happy with you."

J moved in about two weeks ago from a different location. They decided to put all of HR in the same building (which only makes too much damn sense) and I was informed that I would report to her from now on since I was supporting the HR department. I would still be doing my admin duties, but I'd also be doing more HR things. It would be split 50-50.

Me: "Great. She hasn't even been here a week and I've already managed to piss her off. What's it about anyway?"

M: "Let's just say she isn't impressed and I would watch yourself. She wasn't too happy when she left here today. I think she wants to talk to you about it."

Fuck. M wasn't giving me any clues and the first thing I could think of was "my blog." They've finally disocovered it. I'm going to be sacked. I'm going to be sacked and I'm going to lose my clearance all in one day. It'll be a new record, I'm sure.

That night as I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, I was thinking up every possible thing that J may want to talk to me about. I thought of our conversation, how I would answer her, where I would place my hands, the tone of my voice, and making sure to keep steady eye contact the entire time.

I only got three hours of sleep.

**

On Thursday I made it to work realtively early and saw J. She gave me no indication that she was upset or had any concerns with me. It was just like any other day except that I was a fumbling fool who was blatantly nervous and afraid to be in the same building as her. I dropped many things in the kitchen, stepped on her foot while she was making coffee, and felt my face burning red.

Not a good start.

In the afternoon (she made me wait the entire day because she was "stuck in meetings"), I sat in her office with SuperAdmin (she thought it would be good for SuperAdmin to sit in with us since I report to both of them) and we began discussing my roles in the office.

It turns out that it had nothing to do with my blog. J just couldn't find me and thought I was committing timecard fraud, which in my opinion is a little worse than them finding out that I have a blog, but I could account for all of my hours and where I was so it wasn't as scary as I had thought it was going to be. That's what I get for being a paranoid drama queen.

The only thing that came out of that meeting though is that I have to remain at my desk all day unless I tell J where I'm going. Oh yeah, and I only get an hour for lunch, so no more hanging out with lab for ages and calling it "work." Momma has to pick Mel up from work now since I cannot leave under any circumstances until 5pm.

I discovered that J is a micro manger and I fucking hate it.

Now with all of these new rules and being fully aware that J is watching my every move like a peeping tom, I remain planted in my chair for my full eight hours and don't even think about leaving the building for lunch. I order in, brown bag it, or quickly run upstairs to the machines. I'll be damned if I have her report me for anything.

On the semi-brighter side, I've decided that if she wants to know where I am of every second of every day, then I'm going to make sure she's completely informed.

Every single time I need to get up and leave my desk for any reason, I walk into her office and let her know. When she's on the phone, when she has a visitor, or when she's busy typing diligently on her computer, I make sure she knows.

Yes, even when I have to go to the bathroom.

And of course I make sure that she knows when I'm back downstairs. It's only right.

I can already tell it's bugging her, because now that I've got access to upstairs, I have to leave a lot more than before. She does seem easily peeved.

It's the simple things that I enjoy and take pleasure in.

**

It turns out that while I had all of this drama playing up in my head, my workload tripled over night. With this great privilege comes a lot of extra work and extra walking. I'm now constantly running around trying to get things sorted and organized while making sure that I haven't been gone for too long, heaven forbid somebody isn't there to answer the phone. The word spread quickly that I have access upstairs and people are asking if I'd like to volunteer for one program or the next. I just give them their mail and continue on. I like my role at the moment and don't plan on leaving anytime soon.

I get stopped in the hallways and have people hand me more FedEx envelopes, expenses, old timecards that should have been turned in weeks ago, and lists that have been made for me to order more supplies from Staples. I leave with more things then I came with and don't understand why. I have to escort people now (which is not the most interesting thing to do), and hunt down project managers. I fix their phones, update lists, and coordinate more calendars. It's exactly how I thought it should have been when I first started work, and I'm damn excited about it.

We had a new admin girl start today. Her name is Jackie and she seems alright. Okay, she seems nice. There, I said it. Happy? I said something nice about a girl I don't know. I'm trying really hard not to write her off and give her the cold shoulder because I'd hate to say that we'll never be friends and then have her end up being just like Lauren.

She was already cleared and moved upstairs right away.

Even though I say she's nice, she took my desk. The desk that I've had my eyes on ever since I started working in the new building. The desk that D gave up because she left for a different company that gave her an $8,000.00 pay raise. That was the desk I wanted, the desk that I would dream about, that I already had set up mentally in my brain.

She took it.

So while I say that she seems nice and I'm trying very hard not to judge and hate her with every fiber of my being, I secretly hope that maybe she's a little overwhelmed with all of the daunting work that she has ahead of her (staffing and PDS papers; trust me, it's a mountain load of work) and snaps like a twig under the pressure.

What?

**

With all of these new tasks and new responsbilities that I'm keeping up with, I find time to sneak away and take a break. It's only for a couple (read: fifteen or twenty) minutes, but I really do need to get away every so often. My desk downstairs is like the black hole that sucks all the life out of me. It's not good, really.

So I've discovered a new "hiding place" so to speak.

Kevin's office.

Kevin has a nice office on the back side of the building with a perfect view of the airport. I could sit and watch the airplanes land and take off all day. It's wonderful. I hear their engines and watch them glide down from the sky. A little distracting maybe, but in a very good way. And with his office being on the back side of the building, he doesn't get that many visitors.

If I've been walking around the labyrinth in my 3 1/2 inch high heels for a while and need to give my feet a rest, I duck into Kevin's office, face his extra chair towards the window, pull my feet up so I'm sitting cross legged, and prop my elbows up in the window so I can rest my chin in the palms of my hands.

And there I sit. I take a deep breath, get away, and I'm left alone.

Of course Kevin is still in there but he doesn't care. He's too busy working on his computer or leaving voicemails for people that he hardly notices me. I don't notice him that much either. It all gets muffled anyway and I can easily fade him out and get lost in my own small world.

So even though I have FedEx enevelopes down by my shoes, and my To Do list is sitting patiently in my back pocket, right now it doesn't matter. I know it'll get finished, but at the moment I've got Other Things swirling in my head. Other Things that have been waiting, gently nudging me and bugging me. No matter where I am, no matter what time it is, I can feel their constant pressence reminding me about him. I can feel them desperately wanting me to take them out of my chest, hold them in my hands and blow them away into the sky so they're no longer creating so much pressure for me.

I don't listen though. I run away from my Other Things yet again and distract myself. I find comfort in The Postal Service and play their songs inside of my head while I tell myself that I need to get back to work. I slide my shoes back on, fix Kevin's chair, and walk out with their lyrics playing on repeat...

And I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving.

Posted by Sam at 08:41 AM | Permalink

I shall be M.I.A. for the next couple of days, perhaps weeks, just in case any of you were interested.

It appears that I have been slightly compromised at work and have to scale back on the posting from my desk. I'm currently deciding whether I want to scrap this entire site and start anew somewhere else and only give the new link to a select few. Who knows? I'm hoping that if I can cut back some of my posting time from work maybe the whole thing will blow over and I can continue on like normal.

However, if the day does come when I have to delete this blog and come up with a new place to store all of my ramblings (lord knows this little mishap isn't going to keep me from blogging), then the only real concern I have is how to move all of my old posts. I definitely want to keep them and maybe stash them away at the new place. Call me a complete computer illiterate dumbo, but I don't know how to do some of the simple tasks that most find to be second nature.

Oh yeah, and to think of a new name. I hate coming up with a new name.

So if anyone has any helpful computer tips as to how I can bring along some of the old to the new, shoot me an e-mail. It would be greatly appreciated.

No worries, I'll eventually be back.

Posted by Sam at 08:45 AM | Permalink

Now that the new year has kicked off and everyone has arrived back from their holidays, my time at work has slowly started to get a little more busy as the days lean forward into the calendar. Luckily I'm not so overwhelmed that I'm on the verge of going absolutely mad and holding reports and FedEx packages hostage while standing up on my desk and requesting for some time off.

The transition seems to be going nice and smooth, and I'm able to keep up with everything that is work-related. That's the good news.

The not so great news is that I'm letting other things in my life slip off to the side while I focus on whatever happens to be right in front of my face at that particular moment.

I forget about e-mails I need to respond to, phone calls that need to be made, words that must be shared, arguments that need to be finished, and applications that have to be filled out. It's not that I have given up on anything I'm just not able to gather any kind of motivation whatsoever. It's so much easier to step back and shrug my shoulders.

Eh, I'll get to it tomorrow.

I don't know what happened or why I've decided to take this route but it's bugging the shit out of me. It's like I've stepped into a giant hole of quick sand and instead of trying to figure a way out, I just stand there and think, "the less I move and try to do anything, the longer I'll be able to keep my head above the sand. It'll all be okay."

The method doesn't work. Eventually your head will be covered with sand and you'll suffocate. I should have been looking around for a rope or somebody who could toss me something and pull me out.

This past weekend I got into an argument with Momma. It was one of our classic arguments that we tend to have every couple of months. I'm not sure why, we just do and it has even got to the point where I can guess correctly what she's going to say to me.

I'm sure others have had a similar conversation with one or both of their parents:

Parent: "You're not going anywhere, you're not saving money, you don't appear to be doing anything to change this fact, and you'll whind up living here for the rest of your life."

Kid: "You're always so negative about everything. Why do I even try and explain things to you? All you're going to tell me is how much of a fuck up I am and that I'm going about everything in the wrong way."

Parent: "I only tell you these things so you can prepare yourself for what's ahead of you."

Kid: "When are you going to understand that I need to learn things for myself? It doesn't matter what you tell me, if I don't do it myself, fall on my face, and get back up on my own two feet, I'll never learn."

Parent: "Well when are you going to understand that you're being extremely irresponsible and need to learn how to own up to your mistakes."

...and blah, blah, blah, blah...

It never fucking ends.

So now we're not talking to each other. Our townhouse has become an emotional battlefield where we try to avoid running into one another and exchange quick glances. We're both so stubborn that we refuse to suck up our pride and apologize to one another, and for some unknown reason would prefer to have awkward, silent moments.

It gets to be too much.

I've also managed to royally fuck things up with, Ash.

Yes, I'm telling you this with the great potential that he may be reading, but that's okay. I just need to get it out of me.

A couple of weeks back I fucked up my No Smoking Plan and lost my bet that I had going with him. For a while there was lots of drama, drama, drama. The kind of drama that I hate and yet still fueled with my lack of communication.

I'll spare you all of the day-to-day details of what was streaming through my brain, but needless to say it wasn't pleasant and drove me crazy. I eagerly flung myself into the Here and the Now. Lauren and I would run off and keep ourselves entertained while I forgot that I have problems that need to be dealt with. Instead we floated through our days while laughing at our inside jokes and pretending that everything was fabulous.

We're all fabulous. Everything is fabulous. The more I think that it's fabulous, the more real it'll become.

So we are in an uncertain in-between moment. I'm not sure what to do, what to say, how to act, what to think, how to feel, and I constantly question myself.

And I still smoke.

On top of all of that fun emotional stuff, I've got the rest of my financial aid papers to fill out. Oh, I fucking hate that goddamned application. Everytime I pull it out and start filling in the blanks I can hear it's laughter. The fucking paper mocks me.

My untied laces. Sooner or later I'm going to trip and fall because of them.

Posted by Sam at 08:49 AM | Permalink

My knees hurt.

I think I'm coming down with another cold.

Riders On The Storm by The Doors is playing right now.

This weekend blew.

I learned today that I can't spell for shit.

During lunch I finally picked up a package that our cousin, Janice, sent us for Christmas last week.

I took my Christmas decorations down in the office. I had a sad moment.

D's last day was this past Friday. Now we only have two admins; myself and SuperAdmin. Work should be even more fun.

I was supposed to order more printer paper for upstairs a week ago. I totally had a brain fart and forgot.

The telephone has rang two times today. That's all.

The waitresses at Bungalow Billiards know me now. I can order alcoholic drinks without showing my ID card and will no longer be known as the girl who orders iced tea and somehow magically becomes drunk off her ass.

I have a bad case of The Mondays.

Posted by Sam at 08:49 AM | Permalink

I can't contain myself any longer.

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT THE STROKES NEW THIRD ALBUM FUCKING RULES!!!

Whew.

Okay. I feel better now.

Lauren and I dropped Mel off at work at 7:45am. We sat in the car for the remaining fifteen minutes and then at exactly 8:00am, I walked in straight towards the New Releases section and frantically scanned the shelves for The Strokes 3rd album First Impressions of Earth.

It wasn't there.

They hadn't set it out on display yet.

I began to panic and feel faint.

Where the fuck was The Strokes?!

I looked in R&B. Perhaps they put them in the wrong section? Nope. The country section didn't have them either.

Instead I found Mel, grabbed her by the collar with both hands, jerked her down and ask through gritted teeth, "Mel. Where. Are. They?!"

"Ask Sean. He would know where they are. Let go of my shirt. People are staring."

I searched for Sean and found him helping three guys who were looking at the new X-box that has come out.

"Hi. I'm sorry to interrupt. Sean, right? Where is The Strokes new album? It comes out today and I don't see it on display. Y'all have it right? Mel told me that you guys have it but I don't see it."

He looked frightened.

"Yeah, we have it. Hang on one second."

He went to the back of the store and in a matter of seconds brought out the CD that I have been impatiently waiting for three years. I saw the light shine down, angels began to sing in the background, and sparkling stars circled around it.

"Thank you, sir. You are a beautiful man."

I ran/walked towards Mel with their CD held in both of my hands and raised it above my head. I probably looked like a freak screaming, "I got it! Finally Mel, I got it!."

When I made it to her register she reached out her hands.

"I want to see it."

"No. If you'd excuse me for a moment, I'm going to make out with the CD now."

"You're deranged."

Now it's playing in my CD player at work. So far, so wonderful. The whole third floor will have to endure my freakish love affair that I have with The Strokes for the rest of the week and perhaps the rest of the month. They should be so grateful that I'm sharing the magical sounds that are The Strokes.

All of y'all who are taking time out of your life to read these words must go purchase the album too if you haven't already. Go. Now. Go and buy it. And if you haven't bought the first two, buy those also. You can thank me later.

Why are you still reading? Go buy them now!

Posted by Sam at 08:52 AM | Permalink