Sorry. There is no PHC post today.
I tried. I honestly made every effort I could. You would understand if you knew the exact details of last week.
Suffice it to say that the very stable version of me that goes to work on a daily basis, and does the bulk of my daily activities, and lives most of the days of my life (the version of me that is on call 99% of the time) well, that version of me got a little worn out. And starting on Thursday evening, that version of me decided to call in sick. That left the other me holding the bag.
The other me gets rattled, is emotional, raw, and well, somewhat more combustible than the stable me. And after what had already been a fairly ugly work week, sending in the unstable me to finish things out was not good.
So as the unstable me sat at my desk on Friday, a coworker (one that I really like on a personal level,) asked me a question and then put something on my desk for me to handle. The unstable me FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. And admittedly, I snapped at my friend and coworker. I instantly apologized to her, because I knew it wasn't her fault, and that I'd just essentially shot the messenger on that one. Well, I went and took a breather for a few minutes because it was clear even to the unstable me that that was the best course of action. When I got back, I was called into the boss' office. I was instantly reprimanded for what had transpired before. I told them that I had already apologized, and that it wasn't her fault. They asked unstable me what was causing this fracas. Unstable me said that I was overwhelmed, and that I was drowning in my workload, (which is why rational and stable me took the day off). At which point they essentially implied that they had no idea what it was that I did all day, because there is just no way that what they know as my job should be taking all day, let alone overwhelming me. They further implied that I didn't do much of anything at all. (Which is funny, considering that the rational me had stayed late at work the three previous nights to make sure that things were all getting done on time... So apparently, rational me was staying late to do bonus amounts of nothing.)
At hearing all of this, unstable me suffered a brain aneurysm. I stood there with my chin on the floor unable to form sentences, let alone use those sentences to explain what I do all day, or why it takes me all day to do it. There was not a coherent thought in that room, let alone one that I could've formed into the basis for my defense at that point.
I might as well have put my hand down the back of my pants, crapped in my hand, and smeared it on the walls while laughing maniacally. In point of fact, that most likely would've served me better. But instead, I just stood there with my mouth agape, desperately trying to form letters into words and words into sentences and sentences into the explanation of what I KNOW that I do all day, and finding myself coming up short. At least with the poop on the walls, I'd have had a solid basis for a mental health leave. Whereas with the idiotic blank stare, I just looked like a vacant idiot who seemed to be genuinely every bit as incompetent as they were implying when we all know that nothing could be further from the truth.
The unstable me ended up in the bathroom crying uncontrollably.
The unstable me was saved by my best friend at the office who, despite being taken aback at seeing me so rattled at all of this that I was crying in the bathroom, was in a rational state of mind, and talked the stable me into coming in to work for a half-day, because clearly the unstable me couldn't take the pressure.
Both of me then went after work and had much needed alcohol, on an empty stomach, and had to spend the night at my friend's house. Saturday turned into a day of physical recovery from the previous night's indulgence, and Sunday was spent on retail therapy and formulating my plans for the future. And tops on the list is getting the hell out of the only office to ever reduce me to tears on the job. I mean I know it was unstable me that was reduced to tears, and not the real me, but the fact that the real me was too worn out to go in, forcing unstable me to handle things as best as I could, and that they picked that time to imply that the real me hasn't really been doing anything all along anyway... Well, clearly I'm not valued for my efforts, and it has started taking a toll on my sanity enough that I am referencing myself as two entities. Thus it might be time to move on. Which means that the previous plans have simply been accelerated.
Those mother bitches aren't going to get the best of me.
THE LIZZLE WON'T STAND FOR IT.
NOT THEN, NOT NOW, NOT EVER.
This is far from over.
Suffice it to say that the PHC post didn't get written, and I'll make every effort to get to it as soon as possible, but with work drama and personal life drama, it might take a fat minute, but I am promising that I won't let it get away from me the way that things did recently to the tune of nearly three months without anything new. The comeback of the Lizzle won't let that happen either.