Everyone at BCFG (The Big Cheese Financial Group) has a nickname (a real nickname, not the names that I've given them). My first name doesn't lend itself well to nicknames, so I've never had one. Lately Will has taken to calling me J-Weezey. I guess I should take this as I sign of fitting in? They have gone so far with nicknames in the office that the caller id for the phone says "Guy Shizzle" when Guy calls you.
I learned today that I'm going to get a name plate for my Triangle. BCFG is going through a "re-branding" process. (They really like to talk about how their new brand is "modern" and "young." To me, it just looks like they are using a different font for everything, but then I am not a marketer.) Anyway, everyone has little name plates outside their office doors that have the logo on them and then say "Mr. X" or whatever. These all have to be replaced so they can be re-branded with the new logo. K is getting a name plate for her desk, which makes sense, as she is the first thing that you see when you walk in the door. I am getting one too, which does not make sense because any client that wonders over to my Triangle is seriously lost. Will is the one in charge of the re-brand and he came to tell me about my name plate today--hopefully I was appropriately excited about it. He said I might even get business cards out of the deal. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I've had business cards since I was 22 and they stopped being exciting about 6 months after I got them.
Today also brought a new level of The Big Cheese's anal-ness. Recently I've been doing a lot of paperwork that required his signature. When you want him to sign something you have to put those little "sign here" sticky notes, so he doesn't have to read the whole page to find out where to sign. I knew about the notes, so I have been including those, however I have been putting them on wrong. Today he brought me back some pages that he had signed and showed me how my sticky note misplacement had caused problems. He can't be bothered to remove the sticky notes and he had written over some of them because I hadn't placed them close to the edge. I'm supposed to remember that for next time. I'll work on that.
Mental Health Update: I'm actually feeling pretty good now--I've gone back to feeling kind of "on the verge" of something instead of the full blown depression that I was having over the weekend. I think that the dosage change on my medication has helped. (It's been almost 2 weeks now, so I should start to feel a difference if it's going to work.) Getting up and going to work has helped too. Working at home allowed me to wallow, which wasn't good. Now I have to get up, get dressed and act normal every day. While the acting normal part was really hard at the beginning of the week I think that it helped. There is something to that adage where they tell you to act happy and you'll feel happy.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Please Don't Tap on the Glass
When I started working at The Big P there was no room for me in the office, so I hung out in a conference room for the summer. (At the end of the summer we moved to a new building and I got my own office with a door that didn't lock.) The conference room that I was in was glass on three sides, with blinds down over the glass, and it stuck out into the office atrium. We were in a really nice office building and you had to walk past my office to get to the little deli. I spent that summer studying for my Series 7 and 63 exams. For reasons I can't explain, people would rattle their keys along my giant glass windows as they walked past on their way to the deli. Eventually I got fed up and made a "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" sign, which I stuck on the window (with a Post-It Note) between the glass and the blinds. After that it was lots of fun to hear people speculate on why that sign was there and what wouldn't want you to tap on the glass.
I write about my "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" note because I'd like to put another note on my desk now. This one would say "I am not an imbecile." There are two things coming into play here. The first is the fact that when I'm having a bipolar episode I have a very short temper. The second is that Mole thinks I am an imbecile and it's driving me INSANE! Mole has been the best so far at passing off work to me, which is good. However, that means I have to listen to him repeat every day what has been going on with the client. How do you tell someone (that is your superior) that you're capable of remembering what you did in the previous 24 hours? Mole acts like this is an impossible task and always wants to "fill me in on a case." (His use of the word "case" bugs me too because we aren't selling insurance--they are clients. Anyway...) Mole also feels the need to keep me informed with his up to the minute schedule. If I need to know where Mole is at any given time I can look at his calendar. I really don't need to know where he is--I just need to know when he wants his tasks completed--something that he doesn't tell me with all his "filling me in." I can't tell if Mole wants me to think that he is really busy and important and that's why he's telling me about all his appointments, or if he thinks I care. (See what a bad attitude I have.)
I am dreading tomorrow. The Godfather asked if I was putting together meeting minutes for anyone yet. I've done them for Mr. X three times now, so I told him that I was. The Godfather said that he didn't think that I'd be able to make sense out of his notes, so he'd dictate them for me. I've become a person who transcribes dictation.
In case anyone was wondering, now that The Big Cheese is back Guy is wearing real clothes again, instead of basketball shorts and t-shirts. I don't know if this means that his leg has healed (or at least gotten a "good scab," since that's what he was wanting), or if he just knows that The Big Cheese would not appreciate his inappropriate attire.
I write about my "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" note because I'd like to put another note on my desk now. This one would say "I am not an imbecile." There are two things coming into play here. The first is the fact that when I'm having a bipolar episode I have a very short temper. The second is that Mole thinks I am an imbecile and it's driving me INSANE! Mole has been the best so far at passing off work to me, which is good. However, that means I have to listen to him repeat every day what has been going on with the client. How do you tell someone (that is your superior) that you're capable of remembering what you did in the previous 24 hours? Mole acts like this is an impossible task and always wants to "fill me in on a case." (His use of the word "case" bugs me too because we aren't selling insurance--they are clients. Anyway...) Mole also feels the need to keep me informed with his up to the minute schedule. If I need to know where Mole is at any given time I can look at his calendar. I really don't need to know where he is--I just need to know when he wants his tasks completed--something that he doesn't tell me with all his "filling me in." I can't tell if Mole wants me to think that he is really busy and important and that's why he's telling me about all his appointments, or if he thinks I care. (See what a bad attitude I have.)
I am dreading tomorrow. The Godfather asked if I was putting together meeting minutes for anyone yet. I've done them for Mr. X three times now, so I told him that I was. The Godfather said that he didn't think that I'd be able to make sense out of his notes, so he'd dictate them for me. I've become a person who transcribes dictation.
In case anyone was wondering, now that The Big Cheese is back Guy is wearing real clothes again, instead of basketball shorts and t-shirts. I don't know if this means that his leg has healed (or at least gotten a "good scab," since that's what he was wanting), or if he just knows that The Big Cheese would not appreciate his inappropriate attire.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Well, that's good to know...
Let me start by saying, I've never been happier to go to work than I was this morning. It was really good to leave my house. I'm feeling a little better today; I can't tell if it was work or if the medicine is starting to kick in, but I'm grateful.
I discovered a difference between The Big Cheese and The Man today. For all of The Man's faults, he like to have long chats. I actually liked the chats (unless I was really busy.) The Big Cheese doesn't chat. Today I was in his office and our conversation veered toward chatting, but then he said "lets get back on task." He really said that--I felt like I was back in third grade.
I also discovered today that Will thinks that the office decorations are cheesy too. The microwave is on my side of the office and today at lunch time Will was microwaving his Ramen Noodles (incedentally, the Ramen Noodles smelled really good--much better than my peanut butter sandwich) and he was making fun of all the Spring decorations that Mama X has put around the office. I don't think I've described this one before, but there is this very round ceramic bunny (it kind of looks like a ball with ears) in the bathroom, next to the vase of giant fake daffodils. Will has decided that we are going to play "hide the bunny" throughout the office. Today it was hidden in Guy's office--Guy had not found it by the time I left this afternoon. This is going to drive Mama X, with her OCD, insane tomorrow. Will also clued me in to some decorating for the other holidays. I'm most looking forward to the little heart confetti that she leaves all over the place for Valentine's day. I was very glad to hear that I'm not the only one who thinks that Spring is crazy.
I discovered a difference between The Big Cheese and The Man today. For all of The Man's faults, he like to have long chats. I actually liked the chats (unless I was really busy.) The Big Cheese doesn't chat. Today I was in his office and our conversation veered toward chatting, but then he said "lets get back on task." He really said that--I felt like I was back in third grade.
I also discovered today that Will thinks that the office decorations are cheesy too. The microwave is on my side of the office and today at lunch time Will was microwaving his Ramen Noodles (incedentally, the Ramen Noodles smelled really good--much better than my peanut butter sandwich) and he was making fun of all the Spring decorations that Mama X has put around the office. I don't think I've described this one before, but there is this very round ceramic bunny (it kind of looks like a ball with ears) in the bathroom, next to the vase of giant fake daffodils. Will has decided that we are going to play "hide the bunny" throughout the office. Today it was hidden in Guy's office--Guy had not found it by the time I left this afternoon. This is going to drive Mama X, with her OCD, insane tomorrow. Will also clued me in to some decorating for the other holidays. I'm most looking forward to the little heart confetti that she leaves all over the place for Valentine's day. I was very glad to hear that I'm not the only one who thinks that Spring is crazy.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
This is my life
Today after the Husband said that I was in "a mood" I decided to tell him that I wasn't feeling well again. All he said was "well, that explains a lot."
Friday, March 25, 2011
Um....
Today was hard and I don't have a lot to tell that is amusing.
Last night at 8:30 I took two sleeping pills (which is an allowed dosage, don't get worried) and slept last night. I could definitely use more sleep like that and my plan is to do the same thing tonight, once the Husband gets home. (I won't take sleeping pills when I'm home alone with Sweet Pea.)
I worked a lot with Mr. X today. After working for The Man, who was an extremely volatile person (and not very most of the time), I can't get over how nice Mr. X is. Honestly, everyone at The Big Cheese Financial Group is really nice. The Big Cheese has put together a good crew. However, everyone has their quirks. Today I learned some more... In addition to liking paper clips in the upper left hand corner, The Big Cheese like commas. (I also like commas and think that I over use them, but I'm nothing compared to The Big Cheese.) Since it's The Big Cheese's company, he can tell everyone how to use their commas. For example, I was taught that when writing "there were red, blue, and green shirts" that you could omit the comma between "blue" and "and." Not so in The Big Cheese's world--he wants that comma there. Mr. X also has some quirks of his own and is very minimal with his writing. He does not like the use of "that" in a sentence. A big part of my job is going to be writing for (and as if I am) Mr. X, so getting used to leaving out the "that's" will be hard. Right now there is a big Post-It note on my desk that says "Don't use THAT."
I worked on my first project for The Godfather today. True to form, once I had it done and went to look for him to see what he wanted next he was gone (and no one had seen him leave).
I thought that I was feeling okay today. I made it through work without a lot of trouble. I think that must have used up most of my mental stamina for the day. After work Sweet Pea and I went to the grocery store. (I took her to the fancy one that has child care so I could shop alone, which pissed off the Husband, but I don't care.) I was in the store shopping and the overwhelming sadness hit like a big wave when I was in the cereal isle. Since then I've been trying not to cry. I would go ahead and give in, except I know from experience that crying doesn't do any good and I usually feel worse afterwords.
Two other nasty side effects of this illness are irritability and a lack of concentration. Anyone with young children will understand that they irritate you a lot of the time anyway. I hate how much Sweet Pea irritates me and how I react towards her during these times. I wish that she was old enough to understand that I'm not feeling well. I do tell her, but to her being sick is something like having a cold. The concentration issues are really hard too and that's why two summers ago I needed to take the 12 weeks off of work. Tonight was Sweet Pea's ballet class, which I usually look forward to, but today it was driving me crazy. There was too much movement and noise and it felt like the kids were not paying attention and that all the parents were louder than usual. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and scream. I am glad to be home now and also that it is the weekend, so there isn't anything to do for two days.
One last thing--don't feel bad if you're a person that I talk to regularly and I'm not talking about this stuff. It is hard to talk about and much easier to just write down.
Last night at 8:30 I took two sleeping pills (which is an allowed dosage, don't get worried) and slept last night. I could definitely use more sleep like that and my plan is to do the same thing tonight, once the Husband gets home. (I won't take sleeping pills when I'm home alone with Sweet Pea.)
I worked a lot with Mr. X today. After working for The Man, who was an extremely volatile person (and not very most of the time), I can't get over how nice Mr. X is. Honestly, everyone at The Big Cheese Financial Group is really nice. The Big Cheese has put together a good crew. However, everyone has their quirks. Today I learned some more... In addition to liking paper clips in the upper left hand corner, The Big Cheese like commas. (I also like commas and think that I over use them, but I'm nothing compared to The Big Cheese.) Since it's The Big Cheese's company, he can tell everyone how to use their commas. For example, I was taught that when writing "there were red, blue, and green shirts" that you could omit the comma between "blue" and "and." Not so in The Big Cheese's world--he wants that comma there. Mr. X also has some quirks of his own and is very minimal with his writing. He does not like the use of "that" in a sentence. A big part of my job is going to be writing for (and as if I am) Mr. X, so getting used to leaving out the "that's" will be hard. Right now there is a big Post-It note on my desk that says "Don't use THAT."
I worked on my first project for The Godfather today. True to form, once I had it done and went to look for him to see what he wanted next he was gone (and no one had seen him leave).
I thought that I was feeling okay today. I made it through work without a lot of trouble. I think that must have used up most of my mental stamina for the day. After work Sweet Pea and I went to the grocery store. (I took her to the fancy one that has child care so I could shop alone, which pissed off the Husband, but I don't care.) I was in the store shopping and the overwhelming sadness hit like a big wave when I was in the cereal isle. Since then I've been trying not to cry. I would go ahead and give in, except I know from experience that crying doesn't do any good and I usually feel worse afterwords.
Two other nasty side effects of this illness are irritability and a lack of concentration. Anyone with young children will understand that they irritate you a lot of the time anyway. I hate how much Sweet Pea irritates me and how I react towards her during these times. I wish that she was old enough to understand that I'm not feeling well. I do tell her, but to her being sick is something like having a cold. The concentration issues are really hard too and that's why two summers ago I needed to take the 12 weeks off of work. Tonight was Sweet Pea's ballet class, which I usually look forward to, but today it was driving me crazy. There was too much movement and noise and it felt like the kids were not paying attention and that all the parents were louder than usual. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and scream. I am glad to be home now and also that it is the weekend, so there isn't anything to do for two days.
One last thing--don't feel bad if you're a person that I talk to regularly and I'm not talking about this stuff. It is hard to talk about and much easier to just write down.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Unhinged
Forgive me in advance for sounding like a drama queen.
So, the thing that I've been dreading happened tonight and my depression has caught up with me. I was wrong this time and I thought that it would be maina, but instead I have its evil twin. I can tell you the exact moment that it happened--I went to the mall tonight to return some stuff that didn't match with with other stuff and I was driving home and was overcome with sadness. If you've never had this feeling, I don't really know how to discribe it. It sort of feels like drowning in this big pool of nothing. You are completely overcome and are working to tread water to keep from going under.
I saw my doctor on Tuesday and he adjusted my medications. I'm not currently taking an antidepressent, just a mood stabolizer and an antipsychotic (and yes, the fact that I need to be on an antipsychotic scares the shit out of me on a daily basis). I need to give this current dosage change about 2 weeks and if I don't feel any better, I'll call the doctor and he will probably add in an antidepressent. I'm due to see him again in a month, regardless.
I was really hoping that I was going to avoid a major episode this Spring because I was being proactive. I hate feeling like this. In addition to the depression there is a huge amount of guilt that comes with being a mother because I know that I'm not the best mother during these times. Because guilt is a downward spiral, I also start to worry about my crappy genes and wonder if I passed this on to Sweet Pea. (There is definately a genetic link in my family--I am positive that my dad is bipolar, as is my sister and there are other relatives that may have been.)
My plan for right now is to take something to help me sleep, even though it's only 8:00, and hope that with some rest the morning's outlook will have improved.
Excuse my language, but I fucking hate this. (Sometimes it feels good to say the "f" word.)
So, the thing that I've been dreading happened tonight and my depression has caught up with me. I was wrong this time and I thought that it would be maina, but instead I have its evil twin. I can tell you the exact moment that it happened--I went to the mall tonight to return some stuff that didn't match with with other stuff and I was driving home and was overcome with sadness. If you've never had this feeling, I don't really know how to discribe it. It sort of feels like drowning in this big pool of nothing. You are completely overcome and are working to tread water to keep from going under.
I saw my doctor on Tuesday and he adjusted my medications. I'm not currently taking an antidepressent, just a mood stabolizer and an antipsychotic (and yes, the fact that I need to be on an antipsychotic scares the shit out of me on a daily basis). I need to give this current dosage change about 2 weeks and if I don't feel any better, I'll call the doctor and he will probably add in an antidepressent. I'm due to see him again in a month, regardless.
I was really hoping that I was going to avoid a major episode this Spring because I was being proactive. I hate feeling like this. In addition to the depression there is a huge amount of guilt that comes with being a mother because I know that I'm not the best mother during these times. Because guilt is a downward spiral, I also start to worry about my crappy genes and wonder if I passed this on to Sweet Pea. (There is definately a genetic link in my family--I am positive that my dad is bipolar, as is my sister and there are other relatives that may have been.)
My plan for right now is to take something to help me sleep, even though it's only 8:00, and hope that with some rest the morning's outlook will have improved.
Excuse my language, but I fucking hate this. (Sometimes it feels good to say the "f" word.)
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