.Calling out a work peer is one thing, but calling out a superior is entirely different. Not morally, of course, but in terms of whether I want to keep my job.

Oof, well that changes the dynamic. I'm sorry you're in that situation. (and just to clarify, I may have sounded slightly more militant or unsympathetic before, I was rushing my post while trying to get a project out the door, so I apologize if I offended or annoyed, Tep.)

Love Sparky's suggestion. Also Sparky.

Sparky rules. And I agree with Nora that it is tough when it's a superior.

Honestly, Tep, I don't know what you could do except adopt Sparky's strategy.

If you protest directly (a) you'll be dismissed as the humorless office bitch; (b) you'll piss off your superior.

But if you stood there and said: "I don't get it. Why is that funny?" with an earnest look of thoughtful consideration as they explain the amusement value in fat you'd reframe the situation. Have them explain it a couple times and then just shrug and say, "I guess it's me. I just don't get it."

In short, disingenous biting irony is your only friend.

At the very least you'll feel smart and they'll look stupid.

Sparky suggestion rocks. Maybe end the continual questioning with something like "it's a shame we have to degrade one group of people to make ourselves feel superior and make a joke." or something like that.

Eh. Go with Sparky. She is far wiser than me.

Teppy, that's awful. I'm really sorry you're having to deal with it in the first place.

Hugs and health~ma to poor Sara, and I'm very glad that Stephanie has checked in and that things are okay-ish with Ellie.

Re: Wellbutrin
The thing that confuses me is that I was on the brand name for a year and a half without any problem--it's only been since I switched to generic and then back to brand that I've started having problems again. I keep hoping it's temporary.

The other thing about Wellbutrin is that I take it as much for my ADD as for depression, and it has been a wonder drug for me. You can ask ND, who lived with me a year pre-Wellbutrin, how profoundly it has helped me focus, especially at night, so I'm really reluctant to give it up.

I take a low dose (50mgs)of Zoloft every day with my (generic) Wellbutrin and it has done wonders for my anxiety.

I was on 50mg Zoloft for a couple of year, and while it took care of the depression and anxiety, it also made me go up three dress sizes that I have only now, after another two years, have finally taken back off. I also had a really awful (AWFUL) withdrawal when I tried to taper off of it that I would prefer to never go through again.

Now--as I have said to others in similar dilemmas--if it turns out that that is the price I need to pay to be healthy, I will do it. I'd just like to avoid it if possible.

Argh. It's just...panic attacks are so fucking debilitating, as too many of you know. I can't slip back into them. I just can't. I feel fine today, but I'm dreading tonight because it might happen again, and that's never a good sign.

Sorry to be all meMeME. Last night was really hard.

I take a low dose (50mgs)of Zoloft every day with my (generic) Wellbutrin and it has done wonders for my anxiety.

I was on 50mg Zoloft for a couple of year, and while it took care of the depression and anxiety, it also made me go up three dress sizes that I have only now, after another two years, have finally taken back off. I also had a really awful (AWFUL) withdrawal when I tried to taper off of it that I would prefer to never go through again.

Oh yeah, Zoloft made me go up 3 dress sizes, but I was taking 200 mg. I don't know if weight gain is dose-dependent. And it doesn't matter anyway, since you were only taking 50 mg.

What about a different SSRI?

I am going to sneak out of work at lunch, telling my supervisor that a vague "something" has come up. I suspect my seasonal adjustment problems are upon me. When winter turns to spring and fall to winter, I begin contemplating the merry sounds computer monitors would make when flying through windows. Not as much fun these days, with flat screen monitors, but I'd get better range on the throw.

When I decided to take the afternoon off, my nasty side calmed down, and the internal Puritan perked up and said, "Well, now that *she's* calm, we can just be good and stay at work, right?" And I thought about it, then thought again about how if one tries not to break promises to people, then why is it OK to break promises to oneself?

I'll probably not go straight home, because I don't want to have to tell Hubby why I left, because he'll say, "Are you sure that was a good idea?" I'm tired of justifying myself to people. Why the hell can't I be a mostly benevolent despot, where I can do whatever I want without anyone having the right to say boo?

Zoloft just made me go back to my regular size after I'd gone down a couple on the Wellbutrin alone. I don't know if I can really blame that on the Zoloft or just things getting back to equilibrium. It's all good, I have clothes in both 18s and 20s.

Connie, I support your need for a little unquestioned free time off.

And my micromanaging tool of a supervisor just hurried to my cubicle and said, "Is everything all right?" I said, "Yes, I just need to get home to deal with some things." Long pause. "Do you think this will spill over to tomorrow?" "No, today should take care of it." Long pause. "You know you can only use a half day of PTO." "Yes, I know, I put it in." Long pause. "Hm." No answer from me as I continue to close down my computer, but with the occasional polite glance at him waiting for him to say something else or to actually be so bold as to improperly ask me why I'm taking time I'm allowed to take. I take pity on him and say "I apologize for the short notice, but sometimes other things have to take precedence." He looked like he wanted to argue it, but he apparently has taken more classes on what is appropriate for managements to say to people. So he muttered something and went away.

He never did ask me how my husband was when I hurried out of here a couple of weeks ago when Hubby actually sent me a message saying "I don't feel so good, could you come home just in case?" (It had most of the signs of another heart attack, but not so bad that Hubby actually said, "Let's go to the hospital." I know I should have taken him anyway, but after incidents in the double-digits, you start making judgement calls.)