beandelphiki

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.

So...one 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.

JUST. FUCK.

I want to cry.

Guess who worked 12 hours without a break yesterday? Yeah, happy fucking Valentine's Day, everyone.


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OH.

MY.

GOD...

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.

Note to my friendslist:

I AM STILL ALIVE.

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.

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 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?

Feh.


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.