I wish that my title had something to do with being pregnant, but unfortunately it doesn't. No, it means that I have roughly two weeks before I may be unemployed. New Boss let it slip yesterday that the closing date for the sale of my property is July 11th, which is two weeks away. Two more weeks before I may have to go on the dole while searching for a job in the crappy market here.
Today is 16dpo and still no period, but my temp took a nose-dive and I have PMS. The evil bloody bitch is coming, and I have the teariness to prove it. Then again, that could just be impending poverty that has me all emotional.
My day started off with a screw-punctured tire, a trip to the garage, and being an hour late for work. Not to mention a not-so-hefty, but unexpected, bill. Is it Friday yet?
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Work, internet plagiarism, and being 10dpo
The last three days have been pure hell at work. There have been meetings on top of meetings, between New Boss and the potential buyers, that lasted for hours on end. As a low-rung type employee, my presence at such meetings was not required… but I know everything that happened, anyway, because they sat in my area for all their sit-down meetings.
The reception area is rather nicely appointed, with lots of nice leather(ette) chairs, a comfy love seat, hordes of nice plants, and so on. This also happens to be my work area. When they all came in, instead of going into New Boss’ office, or into our mini-meeting room, or even to our formal conference room, they all just plopped down to work in what I consider to be my “office”. So for hours, and for several days, I had 5-6 people talking all around me, in my space, and interrupting my flow.
If there is one thing that people should know about me, it is that I have serious space issues. Whether it’s a personal space thing, like people getting too close to me when I don’t know them well, or a work space thing, like people using my phone or computer, it makes my blood pressure rise. If I weren’t a nice caramel-colored gal, I’d imagine that I’d resemble Yosemite Sam when his face turns completely red and smoke pours out of his ears. As you can imagine, this week has had my nerves twanging worse than a country steel string guitar.
But it’s Friday now, my cold is gone, and I can finally relax. Even though I feel PMS coming on, I’m not even upset. I’m just looking forward to the weekend, to seeing my best friends and goddaughter, going to a birthday party or two (too many damned June birthdays!!!), and having a beer. I’m still worried about what’s coming as far as my job is concerned, but all I can do at this point is update my resume and cross my fingers.
On a completely unrelated note, I joined a free online BB the other day because one of my buddies is on there. While I was looking through the different boards (the typical: TTC boards, pregnant boards, parenting boards, etc.), I of course spent the most time on the TTC boards. I went to check out an informational topic about femara/letrozole, which is what I’m taking. Imagine my surprise when I see that one of the main sticky informational posts is MINE. It is, word for word, even the formatting (spacing, bolded bits, etc.), what I posted on another BB after hours of scouring medical abstracts and summarizing them for other ladies wanting to know about femara. Someone on BB#1 had copied my post, then copied it over on BB#2 in its entirety. Except for the little fact of saying that she didn’t compile the information!
I know, I know; it’s incredibly petty of me. It’s not like I was one of the doctors who did the research or wrote the papers. But still, it just kinda lit my fuse (especially after the week I’ve had) to see my hours of searching through abstracts, reading through abstracts, decoding the medical jargon, copying all the identifying information (even including publishing dates, for crying out loud), then writing my own summaries of the information, on another BB exactly as I’d posted it elsewhere, and without even a nod to me. Or hell, even if not to me personally, a mention that the poster on BB#2 got the information from somewhere else. I know I have bigger things to worry about, but I have to admit that this is bugging the hell out of me.
The reception area is rather nicely appointed, with lots of nice leather(ette) chairs, a comfy love seat, hordes of nice plants, and so on. This also happens to be my work area. When they all came in, instead of going into New Boss’ office, or into our mini-meeting room, or even to our formal conference room, they all just plopped down to work in what I consider to be my “office”. So for hours, and for several days, I had 5-6 people talking all around me, in my space, and interrupting my flow.
If there is one thing that people should know about me, it is that I have serious space issues. Whether it’s a personal space thing, like people getting too close to me when I don’t know them well, or a work space thing, like people using my phone or computer, it makes my blood pressure rise. If I weren’t a nice caramel-colored gal, I’d imagine that I’d resemble Yosemite Sam when his face turns completely red and smoke pours out of his ears. As you can imagine, this week has had my nerves twanging worse than a country steel string guitar.
But it’s Friday now, my cold is gone, and I can finally relax. Even though I feel PMS coming on, I’m not even upset. I’m just looking forward to the weekend, to seeing my best friends and goddaughter, going to a birthday party or two (too many damned June birthdays!!!), and having a beer. I’m still worried about what’s coming as far as my job is concerned, but all I can do at this point is update my resume and cross my fingers.
On a completely unrelated note, I joined a free online BB the other day because one of my buddies is on there. While I was looking through the different boards (the typical: TTC boards, pregnant boards, parenting boards, etc.), I of course spent the most time on the TTC boards. I went to check out an informational topic about femara/letrozole, which is what I’m taking. Imagine my surprise when I see that one of the main sticky informational posts is MINE. It is, word for word, even the formatting (spacing, bolded bits, etc.), what I posted on another BB after hours of scouring medical abstracts and summarizing them for other ladies wanting to know about femara. Someone on BB#1 had copied my post, then copied it over on BB#2 in its entirety. Except for the little fact of saying that she didn’t compile the information!
I know, I know; it’s incredibly petty of me. It’s not like I was one of the doctors who did the research or wrote the papers. But still, it just kinda lit my fuse (especially after the week I’ve had) to see my hours of searching through abstracts, reading through abstracts, decoding the medical jargon, copying all the identifying information (even including publishing dates, for crying out loud), then writing my own summaries of the information, on another BB exactly as I’d posted it elsewhere, and without even a nod to me. Or hell, even if not to me personally, a mention that the poster on BB#2 got the information from somewhere else. I know I have bigger things to worry about, but I have to admit that this is bugging the hell out of me.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Lila's news
My friend Lila, the one I wrote about previously, had her first ultrasound last Wednesday. She was dated at 8 weeks, and was able to see the heartbeat. I am so freakin' thrilled that I've completely lost my mastery of the English language, and just want to babble. I am so happy for her and her husband, and that there will be another child in our group for me to spoil, give lots of sugar to, and to buy noisy toys for. Happy, happy! Joy, joy! Wow, what a difference a few hours and a quick chat can make in your mood.
So, just for Lila, I've added a pregnancy ticker on my blog. Since she's not exactly the type to mess around with that kind of stuff--but she reads my blog!-- we can both keep an eye on the progress of little Ziggy. Much love, Lila-girl, and I'm looking forward to this next step in our long journey as friends.
So, just for Lila, I've added a pregnancy ticker on my blog. Since she's not exactly the type to mess around with that kind of stuff--but she reads my blog!-- we can both keep an eye on the progress of little Ziggy. Much love, Lila-girl, and I'm looking forward to this next step in our long journey as friends.
I'm going to be a hobo
Three days after my last post, I went to a lovely Saturday afternoon birthday party for a 2-year old, one of the gazillion children in my social group nowadays. I had fun playing with all the little heathens as they ran and whooped and hit one another. Best part of all? I made it through the entire event without a single moment of 'poor pitiful me' syndrome! I was expecting it to happen but it didn't, so Go Me!
Two days later, I started feeling my glands--the lymph nodes under your ears-- swell up and get sore, and my sinuses started getting all clogged up. Yes, yours truly had picked up some nasty bug from one of the kids at the party. To top it off, the next morning, Tuesday, was insem day, by which time I was still in the "I'm coming down with something, but I'm not quite actually sick yet" phase.
The insemination went off without a hitch, but by the time night fell, I was sick. Summer colds suck. I repeat, summer colds suck!!! And I'm still sick now, a week later, because I won't just give in and let it run its course. Nope, I have to be superwoman, and try to bully on through at work like nothing is wrong with me. And all that does is give me prolonged colds that last for 2 weeks, instead of just a few days. I do it all the time. I really need to work on my control issues.
So of course, I spent an hour on G**gle trying to find out if there's any chance of conceiving whilst in the throes of illness. But a day later, I got news that's thrown TTC out of my mind, believe it or not.
====
Backstory:
I work in commercial property management, which, since I'm not the actual property manager, makes me a glorified admin. assistant with a fancier title. Actually, I have no idea of what my actual job title is; it depends on who you ask. If you ask my former manager, I was an administrative assistant. If you ask my currrent "interim manager", I'm the office manager (and she's the property manager). If you look at my paperwork from home office, I'm the assistant property manager. Ehh, it's all semantics.
Anyway, the property where I work has been on the market for a little while, but everyone had serious doubts about anyone being interested in buying it. It's not a terrible property, but the neighborhood has gotten run down over the years, making it not as attractive of a choice as it was 10 years ago. Personally, I was hoping it WOULDN'T sell, because that would mean that I had about a 95% chance of becoming unemployed; most owners have their own management companies/services, and I would get booted out of the door.
====
And now back to our tale...
The day after insem., my New Boss came up, all excited, to tell me that there's a serious offer on the table. Yes, someone is interested in buying the property. Now, I can see why she was excited: for her personally, it would mean that she wouldn't be saddled with this property anymore as its "interim manager", and she could focus on her own property more. And from a company standpoint, they could unload a property that's been in trouble for a while. But I couldn't for the life of me see why she thought I would be excited about it. WHY would I be happy to be facing unemployment?!?
After she gushed for a while, she finally told me something that made me feel a little better. The prospective buyers are a local company, and (supposedly) want to retain the current staff (which is basically me and a maintenance man). But until I get a formal offer of employment from the buyers, I can't rely on that. I have to consider that I might not have a job sometime in the next 45 days.
This offer looks serious enough that my employers have offered me the standard "stay on" bonus, and in writing. This is a mini-contract that basically says that if I stay on with the company through the conclusion of the sale, I get x-amount of money as a bonus. More than anything, this is what convinced me that they really think this sale is going to go through. My Uber-boss isn't the type to go through the trouble of, well, ANYTHING unless he absolutely has to.
So, to sum up: I'm sick, 6dpo, and might be unemployed soon. All I can think of is a great song by the Descendents: "Everything Sucks Today".
Two days later, I started feeling my glands--the lymph nodes under your ears-- swell up and get sore, and my sinuses started getting all clogged up. Yes, yours truly had picked up some nasty bug from one of the kids at the party. To top it off, the next morning, Tuesday, was insem day, by which time I was still in the "I'm coming down with something, but I'm not quite actually sick yet" phase.
The insemination went off without a hitch, but by the time night fell, I was sick. Summer colds suck. I repeat, summer colds suck!!! And I'm still sick now, a week later, because I won't just give in and let it run its course. Nope, I have to be superwoman, and try to bully on through at work like nothing is wrong with me. And all that does is give me prolonged colds that last for 2 weeks, instead of just a few days. I do it all the time. I really need to work on my control issues.
So of course, I spent an hour on G**gle trying to find out if there's any chance of conceiving whilst in the throes of illness. But a day later, I got news that's thrown TTC out of my mind, believe it or not.
====
Backstory:
I work in commercial property management, which, since I'm not the actual property manager, makes me a glorified admin. assistant with a fancier title. Actually, I have no idea of what my actual job title is; it depends on who you ask. If you ask my former manager, I was an administrative assistant. If you ask my currrent "interim manager", I'm the office manager (and she's the property manager). If you look at my paperwork from home office, I'm the assistant property manager. Ehh, it's all semantics.
Anyway, the property where I work has been on the market for a little while, but everyone had serious doubts about anyone being interested in buying it. It's not a terrible property, but the neighborhood has gotten run down over the years, making it not as attractive of a choice as it was 10 years ago. Personally, I was hoping it WOULDN'T sell, because that would mean that I had about a 95% chance of becoming unemployed; most owners have their own management companies/services, and I would get booted out of the door.
====
And now back to our tale...
The day after insem., my New Boss came up, all excited, to tell me that there's a serious offer on the table. Yes, someone is interested in buying the property. Now, I can see why she was excited: for her personally, it would mean that she wouldn't be saddled with this property anymore as its "interim manager", and she could focus on her own property more. And from a company standpoint, they could unload a property that's been in trouble for a while. But I couldn't for the life of me see why she thought I would be excited about it. WHY would I be happy to be facing unemployment?!?
After she gushed for a while, she finally told me something that made me feel a little better. The prospective buyers are a local company, and (supposedly) want to retain the current staff (which is basically me and a maintenance man). But until I get a formal offer of employment from the buyers, I can't rely on that. I have to consider that I might not have a job sometime in the next 45 days.
This offer looks serious enough that my employers have offered me the standard "stay on" bonus, and in writing. This is a mini-contract that basically says that if I stay on with the company through the conclusion of the sale, I get x-amount of money as a bonus. More than anything, this is what convinced me that they really think this sale is going to go through. My Uber-boss isn't the type to go through the trouble of, well, ANYTHING unless he absolutely has to.
So, to sum up: I'm sick, 6dpo, and might be unemployed soon. All I can think of is a great song by the Descendents: "Everything Sucks Today".
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Humpday Humpable: Oded Fehr
Dude. I got nuthin'. But I sure do love looking at Oded Fehr! In case you're wondering who in the hell he is, he was Ardeth Bay in "The Mummy" movies. Yeah, yeah, he has other credits to his name, but I liked him best in "The Mummy". Enjoy!
Monday, June 04, 2007
Total randomness
I've been a bit in the dumps for the last couple of weeks, and just haven't felt like writing. Writing is often a catharsis; but sometimes for me, when the feelings are soul-deep, even writing doesn't help. So, here's a very disjointed update on my world:
*Two weeks ago on Sunday, one of my oldest and best friends--who happens to be the only other female in my group without children-- called me up to tell me she's pregnant. She'd only found out hours earlier. The funny/ironic/sad part is that she and her husband had the textbook "oops" moment. One frisky night without a condom (after she'd JUST gotten off the Pill), and a month later she realizes that she's two weeks late... and knocked up. I'm thrilled for them, but can't help feeling a little bit of sadness that I am now officially the last childless woman in my huge social circle.
*Okay, so technically, there is another chick in my circle who doesn't have kids (Martha), but since she doesn't WANT kids, and has had her tubes tied, I don't think she counts. Martha is probably one of the most spitfire women I've ever known, and I cherish the day that I met her. If you've ever watched "Will & Grace", and know the character Karen, well, then you know my friend Martha. If you take away the constant pill-popping and obscene wealth, but leave the basic Karen personality, then you have Martha. I love you, girly, and I hope your husband Hobbit gets his shit together.
*Despite the fact that I think it's useless, I'm continuing with my insems for the time being. I honestly think I just have tubal issues, and nothing will get me pregnant except maybe IVF. And since that ain't gonna happen, eh. But the semen is free, so I'm not quite done yet with this TTC trip. Today I'm on cd 9, at the beginning of yet another cycle.
*I'm starting to venture out again, doing things other than just visiting friends' houses. I've been to see two movies in the last month, "Shrek 3" and "Pirates of the Caribbean 3". Actually, just saw "Pirates" yesterday, and I have to say that Mr. Depp is still looking mighty fine, despite being 104 years old and sporting a grill that could make a West-coast rapper weep with envy. Damn, but I like looking at pretty men! I might have to start doing Humpday Humpables again!
*In case you've somehow missed it, I am a big dork. I am anxiously waiting for the next Harry Potter movie (July 13th for you non-dorks). And then, once I've seen it, I'll go home and start marking off the days for the next week, when the final HP book comes out (July 20th). And just in case anyone was wondering--which I know you weren't-- I'll have a HP movie marathon in the week preceding the new movie, where I'll watch all the previous 4 movies. You know, just in case I've somehow managed to forget something from the 4,893 other times I've watched them.
*Two weeks ago on Sunday, one of my oldest and best friends--who happens to be the only other female in my group without children-- called me up to tell me she's pregnant. She'd only found out hours earlier. The funny/ironic/sad part is that she and her husband had the textbook "oops" moment. One frisky night without a condom (after she'd JUST gotten off the Pill), and a month later she realizes that she's two weeks late... and knocked up. I'm thrilled for them, but can't help feeling a little bit of sadness that I am now officially the last childless woman in my huge social circle.
*Okay, so technically, there is another chick in my circle who doesn't have kids (Martha), but since she doesn't WANT kids, and has had her tubes tied, I don't think she counts. Martha is probably one of the most spitfire women I've ever known, and I cherish the day that I met her. If you've ever watched "Will & Grace", and know the character Karen, well, then you know my friend Martha. If you take away the constant pill-popping and obscene wealth, but leave the basic Karen personality, then you have Martha. I love you, girly, and I hope your husband Hobbit gets his shit together.
*Despite the fact that I think it's useless, I'm continuing with my insems for the time being. I honestly think I just have tubal issues, and nothing will get me pregnant except maybe IVF. And since that ain't gonna happen, eh. But the semen is free, so I'm not quite done yet with this TTC trip. Today I'm on cd 9, at the beginning of yet another cycle.
*I'm starting to venture out again, doing things other than just visiting friends' houses. I've been to see two movies in the last month, "Shrek 3" and "Pirates of the Caribbean 3". Actually, just saw "Pirates" yesterday, and I have to say that Mr. Depp is still looking mighty fine, despite being 104 years old and sporting a grill that could make a West-coast rapper weep with envy. Damn, but I like looking at pretty men! I might have to start doing Humpday Humpables again!
*In case you've somehow missed it, I am a big dork. I am anxiously waiting for the next Harry Potter movie (July 13th for you non-dorks). And then, once I've seen it, I'll go home and start marking off the days for the next week, when the final HP book comes out (July 20th). And just in case anyone was wondering--which I know you weren't-- I'll have a HP movie marathon in the week preceding the new movie, where I'll watch all the previous 4 movies. You know, just in case I've somehow managed to forget something from the 4,893 other times I've watched them.
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