Toddson, it sounds like you are in a prime position to take advantage of a power vacuum. Now, sit down and write up a list of things that your ex-boss has done, and where he has stymied your job. Make a list of improvements and processes you would bring to the position and ask for twenty minutes of the president's time.
Lay out your claim for the territory. You have ideas,youhave the skills. Go for it. What are they going to do? make your job worse? Fire you for trying to make a better place to work? Maybe, but then you just bring up the same points for any unemployment adjudicator...or the next job interview.
As it is, the fact that your former boss is trying to still undermine you might work in your favor.
If necessary, gather up anyone who is willing to back you in this and have them help put the pitch together, or stand by you. Anyone that will show the president you aren't just backstabbing former boss.
I'm so glad to hear that JZ and the Halloweenie are doing better. I missed all the drama, because I was away from the computer all day, but that is so scary. Tons of ~ma to all of them
{{{Calli}}} Tons of ~ma and strength to you and your family.
I was coming in here to complain about car stuff, but it doesn't seem at all important right now.
but that is so scary.
A little scarier in retrospect. I don't think we quite realized this morning how close we were to getting a C-section and having a preemie in the NICU for the next three months.
But everything is pointing to a small abduction of the placenta that has already started to resolve (aka, reattach and heal, I guess).
So keep on with the StayPut-ma. She was so active the other day we're thinking maybe she kicked the placenta loose.
She was so active the other day we're thinking maybe she kicked the placenta loose.
Your going to have a wild child on your hands, but not until she is full term. I insist upon it. Tons of stay-put~ma.
Bless you both, David. What an absolutely horrific way to spend a day.
And, Calli, I'm so very sorry. White light to all of you.
Gah. Many (gentle) hugs to both David and JZ. How very, very scary. And yeah, having an aftershock when it hits you what this could have meant makes a lot of sense.
I hope you both get some good sleep tonight.
having an aftershock when it hits you what this could have meant
Reading the medical staff during an emergency is like Kremlinology. You've got the reassuring nurse and the can't-tell-you-it's-all-clear-yet Attending and the here's-how-we'll-take-care-of-your-preemie Pediatrician and they're all giving slightly different subtext and body language and (more to the point) they all have very different levels of comfort about where the conservative course lies.
Mostly though the whole thing amounted to one thing: How much are you bleeding?
As the answer was: "not much anymore," JZ was ultimately allowed to eat her spanikopita.
Hi. I know bitching about my family is old hat by now, but allow me to present Exhibit #479.
We're on the way back from work, and my uncle is giving me reasons why it would be good for me to buy his old car off him, not that he's pressuring me or anything, because that wouldn't involve asking me about it every single goddamn day, but in any case, when I get married, I could do what all men do and keep the crappy car and buy a nice car for the wife.
Please stop planning out my life,
I think.
Oh, and speaking of marriage, what are my plans? Or do I have someone in mind?
No, I say.
"I don't think I believe you," I say.
"It's true," I say, angered. "Whether or not you believe me is your problem."
He was just asking a question, he says. He isn't trying to be my mom.
"I don't want to talk about it," I say.
"Okay, that's fine," he says. "Why don't you want to talk about it?"
"Uh, when I say, 'I don't want to talk about it,' that means the conversation's over."
"Why don't you want to talk about it?"
"I
said
I didn't want to talk about it. That's the end."
We play this game three or four more times. He's trying to talk to me like an adult, he says. So I don't want to talk about it, so he should talk to me like a child, then?
"No," I say. "I am saying, as an adult, that I don't want to talk about it."
There's some silence. Then he says that I never answered his question. Why, did I have the right not to answer him?
"Yes," I say. "I do. I have the right not to answer your question."
"Because I don't matter," he says.
"Oh, stop being like my mom," I snap. He says he's not trying to be like my mom, he's trying to be him, but now he's obviously angry and he's driving ninety miles an hour down the highway, so in fact he's being
exactly
like my mom.
"If that's the way you want to be, fine," he says.
"That is, in fact, the way I want to be," I mutter.
"You basically said, 'Stay the fuck out of my life!'"
"All I said was I didn't want to talk about marriage! I try not to think about it myself!"
Luckily, we pass a cop and he has to slow down for a spell. But we're back to ninety soon after as he heats up again.
"Thanks for kicking me out of your life," he says, pushing it to ninety-five. "From now on, then, I'll treat you like any other person. I'll treat you like an outsider."
Some time passes as I repeat the same argument again, to no avail. I try not to think about marriage myself; it's not like I'll have any control over it. People will still keep looking for my wife.
When we're off the highway, he cools down and responds that he wasn't trying to be like my mom, he was trying to be like him. And he apologizes for butting into my personal life. He hoped I could forgive him.
Oh God,
I think.
I don't need this passive-aggressive bullshit.
He says he was trying to treat me like his own kid.
"My mom fucked me up good," I say. "And I'm defensive and private because of it."
He apologizes for butting into my personal life.
I'm so, so, so glad I'm moving out in a month.
