Sunday, September 23, 2007


At the end of July I was fired from my job. It was a welcome relief from a bad situation. I believed I had accepted a full time permanent position with medical benefits. The benefits never materialized. The hours were erratic, and often less than twenty per week. Further, I was treated to a constant barrage of abusive written and verbal reprimands regarding everything from my flagrant disregard for proper paper clip placement to my complete failure to properly complete sections of tax returns on which I had not worked. Yes, really. I had begun to try to find a part time job to supplement the income since I have the mortgage from hell. I felt I should stay as I thought I ought to shore up my resume with a little bit of longevity in a position. I know I am not a fuck up in any way shape or form, but life circumstances have made a mess of my work history. I feel like I have made a lot of professional missteps and I am just not really sure what I want to do with myself professionally anymore. The unemployment office here where I live is very supportive. They give all kinds of seminars, and advice, and there are all sorts of resources. I talked to them about my job history. They tell me not to worry about it at all, and by the way, no one in their right mind would have been comfortable with all the circumstances that have led to my freakish work related angst. I asked them if they have a seminar called "Weeding Out the Crazy" so that I can be sure not to get a job with a racist, or a misogynist, or a psycho overage skank bully, or a raving alcoholic, or a sleazoid pig, or a underhanded liar whose behavior is sanctioned by the work environment, or even worse the person who is in charge is guilty of one or all of these filthy sins. Truthfully, they did give me some good tips on questions to ask, and things to make note of during interviews. It has really given me a lot of confidence, but I still have not found anything that is a good fit for me.

Reluctantly, I signed up for unemployment, but I am worried about money, very worried. I do not have much cash anymore at all. I am angry because I spent a lot of money bailing my siblings and nieces and nephews out of various difficulties. Not a lot of money at one time, but it adds up. Also, I have very prudently made repairs to this house. But fixing a fixer upper is a cash-sucking endeavor. My sister has been out of work for almost two years. She did have a couple very brief stints in a couple positions. She really is gifted in her field, but she is not good at supervising. She cares too much about people liking her, and like a lot of people who are good at what they do, it is hard to shift to teaching and supervising others doing it from doing it yourself. So, she has faltered along, spending the money she got for her half of the house when I bought it, and collecting unemployment until it ran out. I feel angry with her for her failure to take care of herself. I feel angry with her for her clear expectation that I will swoop in and fix it, which I have been very good at avoiding for the most part. She has several health issues, many of which could be eliminated if she endeavored to do so, and others that can be well managed if she took medications as prescribed. But she is not responsible. I have tried very hard not to solve her problems, but to instead suggest what I might do in a similar situation. My friends advise me to stop worrying; they remind me I am not culpable for my sister’s circumstances, her choices, or the consequences of her choices. I know this, but it is not fun to watch her crash and burn. I gave her lots of advice such as contact your doctor to get free samples for the medications you need. Get a part time job. Clean out your couch cushions. Everything. Finally, she has gotten to the point where her health issues are so serious that she cannot work. So I told her to apply for help. I told her if she did not get some drugs soon, I would need some. She has applied for disability, disability insurance, food stamps, etc. etc. She has been approved for most of this stuff and will begin receiving benefits shortly. So she does not have to worry about health insurance, food, rent, or anything else. All she has to do is continue to not function and she has it made in the shade. This is not an option for me because in spite of the fact that my family has tried mightily, I am not mentally ill, though I am sure if I were I would take my fucking pills. I have no excuse for wanting or needing help except that I am a human being and I am scared.

I resent this, heartily. I have always worked very hard to take care of myself, and I am mystified by people who do not even consider the idea that they need to get their shit together and make their way through life. I am sick of it always being poor you; I am worried about you, etc. When our parents died several people told me they were worried about her, and wanted to know what I was going to do to take care of her, and so on. Why the fuck doesn’t anybody ever worry about me, and feel obligated to take care of me? Why doesn’t anybody pay my bills, and buy my food, and bail me out of my mistakes? Why doesn’t anybody ever just call me up, and ask me how I am, and how they can help me? Why do I give a fuck about any of this? Right now I am angry with myself. My funds are seriously depleted and I am terrified of how I will pay my mortgage, and feed my cats, and gas my car. Yet, my sister did not in any way try to plan, or manage her money, or do anything to get her own ass in gear, and she ended up with no food. So I took her grocery shopping. I would do the same for anyone, but I was aggravated with her. While I do not think people should eat things that make them ill, I do think you should be a little mindful of the fact that if you want all name brand stuff, you need to get your ass a fucking job and buy it yourself. I do not buy myself the label brand of butter, or cereal, or milk, or much of anything. Minnie just wandered up and down the aisles, throwing items in the cart with no regard to economy, practicality, or reasonableness. That annoyed the shit out of me. Finally, I told her; "you know, I don’t have a job either." I am terrified that she is going to ask me to come live here. I have no idea how I will survive telling her no. But I know I will definitely not survive telling her yes. I would never make such a nuisance of myself, or impose on people like she does. It is very painful and difficult to me to love and care about someone who does not seem to even consider how burdensome they are to me. I am trying to look out for number one without feeling like number two, but I really just wish I had somebody to look out for me.

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