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Wow, last week was, without a doubt, one of the worst that I’ve had here at S-D. Truly, truly horrific. I single-handedly screwed up the standard costs, and everything I touched turned to crap… Meanwhile, I worked over 60 hours, and still managed to get blasted in a team meeting on Friday. Ron was gunning for all of us when he walked in … and I knew it was coming. I dreamed about the standards on night, cried myself to sleep another night, and was actually physically ill on Friday before the meeting. I sat in the meeting and looked and Ron and really, completely despised him. Wanted him to be in pain, or maybe even die. With complete hatred. Isn’t that healthy.

And today he calls me into his office and I’ve screwed up the monthly report yet again. It apparently is a physical impossibility for me to get it right the first time. And maybe the second time as well. And some of the mistakes are just screw-ups… and some of them are nothing I would have known. Ron’s rules and expectations are a moving target. Maybe I’ll hit them one day, but I feel like it’ll be a complete accident.

It’s now February, and I think I can officially say that 2007 is off to a really, really bad start. Mama has metastatic breast cancer, and Thursday’s CT scan showed that the spots on the liver are still there. Jennifer is pregnant and depressed – is completely truthful when she says that she wishes she could give her pregnancy away to someone who actually wants to be pregnant. Bobby is unemployed and an emotional roller-coaster… he gets free-lance work and feels productive, then hits a bad couple of days where he slops around the apt (which is depressing enough by itself) and doesn’t take showers, and feels like a failure. Daddy is bitter and mean and hates life – when I asked Saturday why nobody had filled me in about the CT scan, he said “maybe if you called out here once in a while, you would know” and then covered his mouth like it just slipped out.. yeah right… he wanted to be mean, he was mean, and he felt an extreme satisfaction when he left the house because I was crying and upset. Marlena and Tim just got an email saying that it’s going to be 3 more months before Emma comes home. Marlena’s barely holding it together… she hates, hates, hates her job, and has to force herself to get up in the morning.

And then there’s me… I have a job that I can’t stay on top of, family and friends that feel neglected because I spent last week working 60+ hours instead of paying attention to them, and a husband that’s an emotional wreck because his structure and routine are non-existent. We’re cooking dinner for Tim and Marlena tonight, dinner for Mama and Daddy Wednesday night, cleaning Jennifer and Tom’s apartment Thursday night… oh, and did I mention that my job will spiral out of control if I don’t give it the most attention? I am overwhelmed. I want to crawl in a hole and hide from everything and everybody. I have to go to Marlena and Tim’s tonight and apologize for talking to Shawna about Jennifer not wanting to be pregnant in front of Marlena…

I’m tired. I’m tired of making an effort. I don’t want to call and chat with people. I don’t want to get dressed in the morning. I don’t want to work. I just want to sleep for a thousand years and maybe this will all be over when I wake up.

And I have an obsession about the breast cancer message board. I can’t stop reading it, even though it upsets me and makes me depressed. There’s a 30-year-old that found out she has liver mets last week. I prayed for her on my way to work that her biopsy would be negative. And it wasn’t. That evil, crushing, life-sucking disease is taking another one… someone who’s my age, who just had a baby, and who shouldn’t have to worry about whether she’s going to see her little girl go up. I want to be in denial. I want to live my life like I’m a normal girl, from a normal family, with a normal mom who doesn’t have a death sentence hanging over her head. I’m ready for things to just stop. Just stop and breathe. 2007 has to get better. Please God, it has to.

Ok, I wrote an email to Ron that I would like to use my floater day next Monday… I haven’t sent it but I’m going to before the end of the day. After I rework the damn monthly report, and prove to him that I’m not a complete idiot.

And the pregnancy thing. Lord. I don’t even know if now’s the time. I’m not going back on the pill, but I don’t even think about it that much anymore. And if/when it happens, I’ll be happy. And if it doesn’t, I’m going to give it 6 months, and then ask for help. My doctor’s appt is next Friday, the 9th… I think it’ll be good to just get the green light that everything’s ok, and that it’s ok to try. And I have a feeling of dread about the breast exam part, but I do self-exams all the time… several times a week. I have to believe that I would have found something if there were something there. And I’m going to insist that they start letting me have mammograms. I don’t care if they think it’s too soon, and I’m too young… I’m going to push for it because it’ll just make me feel better. Safer. Even though I know that there’s nothing I can do to keep the breast cancer away.