beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (make it stop)
First, thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I'm sorry I haven't told you all how much I appreciate it.

I'm not consciously aware of being upset about my coworker, but I HAVE been avoiding my own journal like the plague all this week. I know I get avoidant like that when I'm upset or anxious, though. It's a bad habit I should really try to break.

(Well, that, and I've been snapping at my mother a lot. Inexplicably, every single thing she's said or done this week has irritated me. I should apologize.)

My boss is now coming in to work! She talked to everyone she could on Sunday about it. She also gave me a few of the details I was missing:

-Apparently, BD was NOT just drinking. She also had taken Ecstasy that the Edo boys gave her. (Something I gather has broken my boss's heart, as BD had ALWAYS promised her to take no other street drugs besides pot.) This, combined with the alcohol, stopped her heart. The paramedics got her heart going again, but it was stopped for too long. Hence why she was in a deep coma when they got it going again, and was never able to wake up.

-Apparently the paramedic was wrong that she was all alone. The Edo boys were apparently responsible for calling 9-1-1. And they did it when she started to say she had a HORRIBLE headache (after which one of them disappeared, but he was trying to get her a glass of water), not when she collapsed. GO THEM for realizing so quickly that it was serious, even if it didn't save her.

(Maybe they stayed back when the paramedics came, since they apparently gave her the E? Or - hell - maybe the paramedic didn't even realize that this white girl was with a bunch of Asian guys? I have no idea.)

-My boss says that BD's last words to her were, "I'm going to dance all night and go to the pancake breakfast in the morning, so you don't need to stay up for me. 'Night, love you Mom." ...That's good. It's good when last words are, "I love you," and I think you could practically count on BD for that.

My boss seems to be doing remarkably well, actually. Another of my coworkers who's been around our Taco Time about twice as long as I have (i.e. 6 years or so) asked me if I was around when her father died. I said no, and he said that she was essentially non-functional for a month. We all expected this would be even worse.

Instead, she seems to be handling things...okay. She's working again, anyway. (The memorial service was in B.C. on Saturday, so we didn't see her until Sunday, but she's been back in since she could be.) The same coworker said that she's become very...Zen...about her life in general the past year or so, and that he thinks that's REALLY helping her.

I'm just hoping this is true and she doesn't crash horribly later on. She seems calm enough to find solace in the idea that her daughter's death might be a lesson and a message to some of her hard-partying friends.


One of my four cats, Callisto, has been off their kitty kibble lately. Actually, they all have; but now that it's not so hot the other three are eating just fine, so we think they were just too hot earlier.

Callisto, however, still wasn't eating by yesterday morning. And my mom and my sister observed something very alarming; our resident fatboy has a WAIST. And no tummy. He's lost THAT MUCH weight. We've had him on prescription diet food since he was a kitten, and he's never had a waist. So Mom took him to the vet's.

...Turns out, he has liver disease.

The vet told Mom he was quite jaundiced. It's hard to see in cats (Mom says the vet showed her how to check by pulling their eyes open wide or peeling the sides of their mouths open), but I still feel terrible for not noticing. At least now we know how to regularly check that in all of our cats.

Apparently though, if the vets can get him stable, this is something which is fairly common in cats and can be managed. So we're crossing our fingers. He spent the night at the vet's for treatment, and when Mom called this morning he was doing better...if not great. (At least he made it through the night!) We might go visit him later today, as the vet said we could.

I hope my kitty will be okay. I really, really don't want to lose another cat.


Personal health stuff )

beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (ball)
So my coworker?

Yeah, she didn't make it. Passed away sometime last night, apparently.

Her mom came into the store tonight to give everyone a hug - something which threw me, since I'd expected to have at LEAST another day to decide what to do or say when I saw her. (I mean, really, what do you say??) So I panicked just a little when she walked in the back door.

But she didn't wait for anyone to come up to her; she just started hugging people.

It's awkward how I just don't tend to react emotionally with as much strength or immediacy as other people do. One of my other coworkers was in tears all day; others kept making worried faces or bringing it up. I'm sure they ALL wondered what they should say, but I don't know if anyone wondered how sad they should pretend to be. Anyone but me, anyway. I mean, is that in any way normal?

When my boss walked in the door, I was faintly aware of my face running through test runs of expressions while I watched everyone else, trying to find a face that matched the emotional tone and volume of the room. (No, nobody was looking at me, as I was behind everyone else.) I was primarily concerned with my boss, of course, but a small part of me was uncomfortably aware of the fact that I was performing sorrow more than feeling it.

Nevertheless, I must have done an okay job hiding that, because my boss took one look at me and literally burst into tears on my shoulder. She said, "She loved you guys so much," and I suspect she meant me in particular at that moment. Not necessarily because BD actually loved me more than anyone else; but because both of them have always been vaguely maternal towards me, and BD in particular had always made it a point to tell me she loved me - for what reason, I can't quite guess. Maybe she just thought I needed to be told that a lot.

So I hugged my boss a lot and rubbed her back, and that seems to have been an okay thing to do, because she recovered and eventually she and her older daughter (BD's sister) left.

Apparently she was a wreck this morning, and the people who remember when she lost her father have suggested that we may need to keep a close eye on the management side of things for ourselves for a while.

My poor boss. She has practically nothing except this business, and then there were her two daughters. I can't imagine, but it must be incredibly hard.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([DW] never give in and NEVER give up)
One of my coworkers is in a coma.

Even better, it's the Boss's Daughter.

She's barely been working at our store anymore; she got a higher position working at Bluenotes some time back, and only works the odd Saturday shift now. I'd forgotten she wasn't on the schedule this week, as I'd been more than half-expecting to see her today. I'd CERTAINLY expected to see my boss, because unless she's on vacation, Boss Lady is there every. single. day.

Instead, I get to work to find out that BD is in a coma and my boss hasn't been in at all since she's been at the hospital by her daughter's side since early in the morning.

Turns out that she went out partying to celebrate the Stampede, as it's that time of year again in Cowtown. She's always been a HEAVY partier and a heavy drinker (with aspirations to be a bartender), so I imagine she was doing more of the usual. She'd originally gone out with, "my Edo boys," the guys who work next door at Edo Japan; she's gone out to bars with them a lot in the past, and they introduced her to raves. But apparently they got separated at some point in the night (I don't think we know the full story on that yet, so I won't speculate), and sometime early in the morning BD was found by a kind stranger lying unconscious downtown.

Paramedics were called, etc. And when all was said and done, she's in an alcohol-induced coma...and not expected to make it.

Just...what a stunning thing to hear first thing when you walk in the door. I've spent most of today struggling to process this news.

Just last night, I saw her because she came running into the store just as I was about to leave and dropped off a shirt and a straw cowboy hat. (Which I gather she didn't want to take drinking with her.) Since the store belongs to her mom, BD has a tendency to treat it a little like you would your own living room, dropping off possessions in the back and picking them up on a whim.

She said, "'Night Dan, love you!" and went dashing off to meet a friend; I blinked at her back and probably said something like, Oh, you too. Um, goodnight. Mainly I was overwhelmed by the cyclone she can be. As introverted as I am, she can be hard to watch - she's the very definition of "extrovert." As much as I've griped about her in the past, it's because nobody ever tells BD off to her face. You can't. Despite being a spoiled princess, there is something almost forcefully likable about her. She is everyone's best friend. Since she's stopped working here, some things have run quite a bit more smoothly...but it's much, much quieter.

I'm much quieter. I have no one to talk to. Outside of the internet, she's the only person I might have vaguely considered a friend.

Just this morning I was thinking glumly that since House, M.D. is over until September, and Doctor Who is over as of today until...indefinitely...that work was going to get incredibly monotonous. (It's probably sad that the highlight of my week is a television show, but there you go.) Just same old, same old - my biggest fear right now is that I won't be accepted to any school I've applied to, and I'll be stuck another year making tacos for people.

Now, unless BD wakes up, I'm going to be working for a boss who's grieving the loss of her younger daughter. There's no earthly way in this situation that I could quit out of mere boredom, but I don't imagine work is going to feel comfortable for a while.

I keep thinking of things I might have talked to BD about. She hasn't put me on rail the past few Saturdays she's worked, so we're not even beside each other to talk much.

I also thought about how last Halloween she'd wanted me to go in drag, but I didn't because I wasn't prepared with anything suitable to wear. Admittedly, she didn't want this in order to see a boy wear a dress as a costume, but because she wanted to see, "What Dan would have been like as a girl." But I'm not totally opposed to the idea, and I was debating between that or dressing up as the Tenth Doctor for this coming Halloween. I was trying to conjure up some scenario where I might get completely dolled up for her, given that I don't party, wouldn't feel comfortable going out with some fraction of her very large circle of friends, and don't have any other friends I'm in touch with right now that don't live in a box.

Now she's probably never going to see me in drag at all. Or discuss the next season of House. And I might never get together with her to introduce her to Doctor Who, like I've been intending to. And we might never play Guitar Hero together, like we've been meaning to.




Jun. 2nd, 2008 07:44 am
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([work] customers suck) of my coworkers apparently was having "woman issues" on Friday, and went home early. Fine, no trouble.

Then she also went home early on Saturday. Called in sick yesterday. AND called in sick today. So I got called in early. AND I HAVEN'T FUCKING SLEPT, YAAAY! I think I only got about two hours sleep yesterday. So I'm going to be ready to fucking DROP by the time I even get to work, and now I'm re-scheduled to work about ten hours. But NO, I'm not bitter.

(I naturally seem to sleep better in the day. I'm really starting to suspect Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome - nothing else seems to fully explain why I've never been able to easily fall asleep until early morning unless I'm physically at the end of my rope, and maybe not even then. Given half a chance, my sleep/wake cycle will immediately and drastically swing around the clock until I'm going to bed around 5-7 a.m., and I'm always more alert and creative at night then I can EVER be in the day. Even in elementary school, my parents couldn't seem to shift me to the 7 p.m./7 a.m. pattern of turning in and rising that they wanted, even though they were iron firm on my bedtime.)

This girl's fucking vagina better be rotting out, or something. I mean, I'm NOT coming in tomorrow - she better get her ass to the fucking hospital and find out what's fucking wrong and fix it already.

Her and her damn brother with his intestinal issues. HE'S the reason I ended up working 12 hours straight back in February. This family needs to get their medical shit together, seriously. I hate the fact that this guy is considered a reliable worker when the fact is that he doesn't bother to take any real care of his diet, and then everyone has to cover his shifts when he's sick the next day.


I want to cry.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (chess)
Still sick. In fact, my boss sent me home today after I'd only been at work for an hour and a half.

Of course, I did say that I'd like to go home when she asked me, and I think for both Boss Lady and the Boss's Daughter that's become some sort of sign of the approaching apocalypse. As in, I very rarely ask to go home sick, so in their minds, "Dan asking to go home" = "OMG DAN IS DYING!!!11one!"

Actually, B.D. practically pushed me out the door despite the fact that she had no voice today (due to staying up all night at a late karaoke bar). That makes me feel terribly guilty for grumping to other people today that I'm, "sick of her shit," when we heard she'd been up all night and we figured she'd just ask to go home from the word go. (I hope nobody tells her about my grouching, or the Greek tragedy tomorrow will be EPIC.)

In honest truth I'm not dying, and I could have gone to bed earlier myself last night. (Okay, I stayed up a bit to watch Doctor Who.) But I just felt like CRAP today. Mushy inside and horribly sore all over from the endless, endless coughing.

So I came home and sat in front of the television and marathoned Torchwood ALL DAY (which I hadn't gotten around to watching yet), and my god, it felt so good to just. STOP. And relax for the day. Up to the seventh episode of the first series now, and really liking the show in a, "Yay, mindless entertainment!" sort of way.

I think I really needed that extra time off, and didn't realize it.

Really starting to worry about this cough, though )
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([work] customers suck)
Guess who ELSE was sick when I went to work yesterday? The Boss's Daughter! So we all got treated to another installment of the B.D. Show. Little princess she is, and totally convinced she's a tough act.

Christ, I can't even be SICK at work. If she hadn't been sick, she would have undoubtedly gotten her period or something else to moan about.

And then when I got home, I got treated to another princess act from my mother: "Jeez, this cold takes a lot out of you, doesn't it? I had to take a three hour nap to recover from shopping!"

I said, "Yeah, I'm so sympathetic." Hello? I'm sick too, and I just had a 14-hour day, running around town and then working a 7-hour shift. Not all of us can live on spousal support.

Oh, and I forgot my meds at home. It was a great Friday.

SAIT has updated it's washrooms, apparently. The newer buildings have always had (in the time I've been going, anyway) those automatic-flush toilets which flush constantly and spray your bare bottom while you're sitting on them. They've also had automatic faucets which only dispense water if you're wearing the right color underwear. But they've always had hand-pump soap.

Apparently The Powers That Be have decided people can't pump their own soap. So now there's an Autosoap dispenser at every sink, which spit soap into your palm when you hold your hand in front of them. Those seem to work fine.

So if all else fails, you can wash your hands with Autosoap and the fresh spray off your butt.

I finally finished watching Voyage of the Damned. Whoo, Doctor Who tonight! So excited.


Feb. 15th, 2008 08:13 am
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([work] customers suck)
Guess who worked 12 hours without a break yesterday? Yeah, happy fucking Valentine's Day, everyone.

Also, I'm not receiving comment notifications, for some reason. If you reply to me somewhere, and you want me to see it, comment here and let me know!
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (smarter than you)
The one area where I tend to be just a bit too oversensitive is my work.

I use the term "work" broadly, since the meaning varies depending on my circumstances. But regardless of where I'm working, or what I'm working at, I want to be the best. I want to be the fastest, the most accurate, the smartest, the one who's always one step ahead, the one who thinks of EVERYTHING. I want to be the one who appears almost magical. I want to be invaluable. I want to be the genius.

Naturally, of course, this isn't possible in the real world most of the time.

So failing the above, I want to be AT LEAST as good as everyone else. And to make up for the rest, I'm sure to put in the longest hours. If nothing else, I'll be breathing air in work space more than anyone else.

So when I pick up even the SLIGHTEST vibe that someone thinks I'm not as good an employee in some area I've worked hard to master, I get rather down. (Understand that this doesn't apply to areas that I generally don't cover/haven't been trained in, because that's silly. The kitchen, for example, is one area where I will defer to many other people, because I was never properly trained there.)

Sometimes I think I'm picking up those vibes.

I can read way too much into things sometimes )
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([DW] woobie tiem)



What a day.

Kill me now. Please? )

I seriously want to curl up and die. Or cry. Or something.

THANK GOD I don't start until 2pm tomorrow.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (FUCK.)
When I went in to work today - AFTER 1:00 pm, when I was supposed to be there - I suspect my face looked...well, nowhere near the face in my icon, actually. (Poor House...) But I looked bad for me.

It was very much my, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT? FUCKING BLOW ME face. I was stormily imagining the upcoming exchange with my boss, which would go something like:

Boss Lady: Care to explain why you're twenty minutes late?

Me: I figured it was better than not being here at all...but maybe I was wrong. *widening eyes in mock alarm* Should I leave? I can leave. *takes coat back off hook*

Instead it went something like:

Boss Lady: Omigosh, you're here! *anxious* I was just getting ready to call your house!

Me: *deflating a little* *mutters* ...I'm sorry. But I figured calling in sick at quarter to one was ruder than just trying to make the train and risking being late.

[Note: missed the train. Currently do not have a phone I want to use, as it's "no longer supported" and being replaced, and I don't know if it'll work or what.]

Boss Lady: ...You're sick? *anxious Mom voice* What's wrong?

Me: *mutters* I'm not sick. I'm bleeding. Took me five Advil and a muscle relaxant to stand up this morning.

Boss Lady: So you're okay then? *cheering up* Maggie got hers this morning, too! Must be going around. *bounces back to the kitchen*

Me: *amused* ...Every month, Diane.

Boss Lady: *grins* Take the rail with Krista?

My boss? Is very smart.

She changed my schedule without a single word. No reaming out.

And when she left, she gave me a big smile, and a cheery wave, and said, "Thank you for coming in!"

And this? Is why I haven't quit yet. She always seems to know when I've Totally Had It, and doesn't push me, even if I'm not pulling my weight that day. Maybe it's because I've pulled more than my weight in the past year - long, LONG shifts without complaint, weeks without days off - but a lot of bosses wouldn't care.

Here's hoping tomorrow sucks a lot less. Off to bed.


Aug. 25th, 2006 09:06 am
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
Note to my friendslist:


My online time is significantly reduced at the moment, though. I have the name for a chiropractor to see who does Active Release Therapy - apparently, that's supposed to be good for various types of RSI. So hopefully, that all works out. In the meantime though, I've discovered that only an hour or so of scrolling reduces my right arm to a bundle of wildly spasming muscles (like, I lay it on the table and watch it jump around), so I'm mostly laying off the internets when I can for now.

Sadly, to be kept up on my life doesn't take much. I can probably sum it up in bullet points:

-I'm really tired this morning. Didn't sleep last night. Which is...shoot me, because I'm trying to fight off a stupid cold my sister gave me.

-I now own House, M.D., season two. w00t, the blooper reel is the best.

-I'm getting a raise and a promotion in September - I'll finally be a supervisor, and going up to $10/hour. My life's exciting like that.

-I don't recall if I posted about this, but a while back, we had a guy come to Taco Time and try to use a stolen credit card. Luckily, I held on to the card, and when the message, "RETAIN CARD, CALL BANK," came up, I went straight to my super with it - apparently someone reported it stolen a mere 15 minutes before he tried to use it with us. He took off, but he's supposed to have hit at least four other store in our food court, so the police really want to catch him.

Now they want me to identify him from a lineup. Meh, I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing - people can look pretty different in photos, and my memory's not the greatest. Mom says there's an episode of NUMB3RS that deals with the problems with the traditional lineup, so she says she'll pull out the DVD, and I can watch it.

Okay, off to work.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (*stress*)
Okay, I generally don't want to complain overly much about when I feel crappy or am in pain. (Although I think that I probably do so more on lj than anywhere else... Lord, this is the third or fourth post in a row on health issues. ENOUGH ALREADY! I need something else to talk about.)

I don't know if it sounds silly or ablist to say so, but often, if I'm having a crappy day, I'll weigh that against my mental benchmark of serious disability or chronic pain (not that the two are at all mutually exclusive), and generally come out of that train of thought feeling fairly well-off. I'm not (I don't think) trying to romanticize disability/chronic pain or anything, I just figure it seems rather petty to bitch when it could be much more painful. Tired? Well, stop complaining, it could be Chronic Fatigue! And then I just feel silly with myself, and try to drop the pity party.

Today though, pretty much everything went wrong at once )

All in all today...I just wanted to GO. HOME.

I was scheduled to close the store today, but since we really only needed three people and there was four of us - me, fellow cashier Shay, Ben in the back and Kevin, supervisor and rail boy - Kevin figured I could leave early. Great! Wonderful!

Except that he ended up sending Shay early instead. Why? Because she had dumbass friends come by and stand in front of the till loudly making "inappropriate sexual comments" (his words, I don't know exactly what he means), and since she wouldn't get rid of them when he asked, and HE didn't have the balls to tell them to fuck off, he sent her home early to get rid of them.


beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (um...)
Note: This is actually an entry from THURSDAY. I've been trying to get this posted, but it's long and I have to get up early in the mornings - I'm working a lot of 10-hour+ days at the moment - and it took longer than I thought it would to write.

*takes deep breath* So, as messages in my inbox have noted, I haven't been on in, like, forever.

Also, my mother informed me today over lunch - we went out to buy me clothes for work, we have to wear "Western"-style stuff for Stampede - that there have been a lot of calls from "California" showing up on our call display lately. (*koff*) She'd know because she checks messages. It's lovely when she remembers to tell me these things.

Oh and she's also puzzled by calls from a "Jennifer," but I know that's my Dad, calling from his girlfriend's place. (She doesn't know about the girlfriend, or that Dad's moved in with her.) I bailed on him for Father's Day, and he hasn't heard from me since.

And I think [ profile] lytheris tried to call me a while back...? But I don't remember.

Yeah. I've been hard to reach.

Something I've noticed is that my posting tendencies seem to fluctuate in inverse proportion to how intense my life is at the moment, emotionally speaking. So if my life is boring and same-old, I'm on more.

And if it's blowing my mind from stress, I disappear from the online world. The worse it is, the more places I disappear from. The past several weeks, I pretty much haven't been on at ALL, anywhere. And people can't reach me offline either, unless they work or live with me.

So yeah, I'm a little upset/worked up right now.

I've also been taking over other people's shifts at work (a supervisor moved cities, and two people took weeks off), being trained for supervisor, FINALLY (to replace the one that left), and been pretty sick and tired in both literal senses. (Tired: I'm taking med holidays from my Dex on my days off work, but that has the end result of a productive-productive-productive-productive-productive-withdrawalOMGTIRED pattern each week, and I usually sleep 18 hours or so on my days off.)

But mostly, I've been avoiding the 'net. Instead, I've actually been watching TV (which I never do) and catching up on House, M.D. episodes because it's my engaging new fandom that

a) is attention-grabbing enough to completely distract me, and
b) has the benefit of being pointlessly reassuring on the subject I am most distressed about; namely, medical concerns.

See, I'm a teensy weensy bit worried that I have breast cancer.

I know, I know, I'm way too young. WAAAY too young. Way, WAAAAY too young. Like, ten years, at least! Heck, more like twenty, in fact! Which I suspect is why it's taken me months to get my doctor to take me seriously. *MASSIVE FRET*

I don't really mind if it's not breast cancer - really! I'll take feeling slightly foolish in GOOD stride if it's not. I just want to know what's wrong. I want to know why the underside of my right breast has a texture which my doctor helpfully described as "almost peau d’orange."

It's not cancer if they say 'almost,' right? )

So I'm getting tested in SOME fashion - my ultrasound is on Tuesday - and I shall see what comes of that.

In the meantime, though, I'm a bit lost as to what to do. Should I do a ton of research, try to find out what it might be? Whenever I do a search on the skin thing I come up with inflammatory breast cancer, but that doesn't quite seem to fit. (Mainly because IBC seems to be marked by noticeable swelling, warmth and redness that looks like an infection and which doesn't go away.) It might be smart to have a clue - if I'd had more clue the first time, I might have mentioned the skin changes sooner.

But I also do not want to freak myself out totally.

BUT, I do want to have some time to prepare myself mentally. In case it's not something benign. I've been trying to decide what scares or upsets me the most about the "remote" (my doc kept using that word in reference to the odds!) chance that it's actually cancer - that I won't have really finished or accomplished something if I die young? That even if I don't die, it'll totally screw up my life for at least a year or two? That if I need chemo, my hair might not grow back in so fabulously Harry Potter? That if I do die, they're probably going to inscribe, "hopeless SLOB!" on my gravestone over the state of my bedroom?

No, right now, I think my biggest fear is that I'll cry if I get told that. I hate crying in front of people with a passion, and given what I've already managed to get through (abuse of various types, growing up ADHD, suicidal depression, coming out as transsexual, that kind of thing), I'd like to think that I could pull this off with some dignity.

But I'm guessing maybe not. Since when was I known for stoic calm and grace under fire?


Anyway. I need to go to bed because it's (eep) 2 am, and I'm up earlier than usual tomorrow. But tomorrow is a short day (Sunday!), and I'm off work on Monday this week, so I will try to catch up with people Monday at the latest, if not tomorrow night.

I pray I haven't misspelled much in this longer-than-a-day-in-hell entry, because I REALLY am too tired to proofread.

'Nite, all.


beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)

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