So after figuring out that I murdered my beautiful pale pink fuchsias by overwatering, I bit the bullet and ponied up another $47.00 for two more, with the promise to Anthony The Plant Guy that I would only water every two days, lifting up the pot to see if it still felt heavy, and not watering them if that were the case. Luckily, there were two more pale pinks to be had at Croton Country Gardens on 9a. The last two good ones. I’m not so fond of the really fuchsia and purple ones, those are more my sister’s colors than mine. Supposedly they’ll bloom all summer.
My Stash Weasel arrived from McKenna! I named her Wilhemina Weasel, and she arrived with a birth certificate and everything. I specified that I’d like a pink ball of yarn, please, and was obliged to the point of having a pink bow on her wee head. Thanks, McKenna! Everyone needs a Stash Weasel, they’re very protective. If you decide you’d like to adopt one, please email me and I’ll send you McKenna’s email address.
Gary made appropriate gasping noises when I told him that I was about to turn the heel on the first of the second pair of On Line socks. This time I was very mindful and paid attention real hard to what I was doing and look, the heel came out without a hitch! I even ended up on the right side when I was supposed to be there. I’ve made a concerted effort the past few days to do that, be mindful, pay attention, focus. It’s helping. Gil explained that with bipolar disorder, it’s often as if I’m operating in a kind of “brain fog.” He said that I told him that, but I don’t remember. My analogy is that you’re at Best Buy in the TV department and all of the TVs are on. Different channels. And no one knows where the remotes are. It’s very difficult to filter out what’s important from what’s not so much. I get things stuck in my head for days, like “Clackamas, Oregon.” And “squirrel.” Bits of songs that simply don’t stop. Stuff replays in my head over and over and over.
It gets really bad when I have a day like yesterday when it was really busy at work, and all day long I was being pushed and pulled around. Not a moment’s peace, except for my break. At 8:09 pm NTP asks me to find a pickup for yet another customer. I tell him, “I have to go.” He just looks at me with those beady eyes. I take the receipt from the customer and type the name into the computer, not even registering that it was an old receipt. So of course, I can’t find it. Thinking I typed the name wrong, I enter it again. No luck. I tell him, “I can’t find it.” He says,” Never mind, I’ll find it.” Why not say that in the first place? I’ve been there since 10:45 am and I am beat. I go into the breakroom, clock out, and go into the bathroom. I come back, and he’s waiting there for me. “Just the person I wanted to see.” Grrreat. “When I ask you to do something, you could be a little more gracious about it. You were rude, and I have to go fix it now. I have no idea what it’s been like today…” Yeah, STOP RIGHT THERE. You have NO IDEA since you waltzed in at 6 pm. It was a total madhouse all freaking day and now you’re asking me to stay later. It’s like his mission is to make me quit. I don’t know what it is about me that ires him so, does he think I’m faking it? Malingering? What would be the point of that? This past Sunday he laid into me again. Telling me that he had to look away from me during the meeting, I was falling asleep. I said, “There are plenty of people who don’t even come to the meetings, and I’m here.” “You’re right. Let me worry about that.” Fuck off. There are people who worked that day who didn’t bother coming in for the 8 am meeting. The meeting was redundant, a carbon copy of last year’s. I attended that one, too. Pretty useless. I’m getting pretty fed the fuck up.
