The last couple of weeks have been pretty rough for me.  It’s mostly job-related and all culminated in another screaming match with Co-Worker Frenemy. My half of the conversation was on the phone from home, and I don’t remember yelling (but probably did).  Her half of the conversation was in the office and several of my co-workers heard her, even though she was behind closed doors at the time.

It never ceases to amaze me how much I forget to hide my crazy at work.  I start out feeling vindicated in my feelings of injustice and end up questioning every little thing.  I still think she was wrong, but I wish I could handle these things well.  The problem we have is that we know each other too well.  And, because we were so close, personal history always plays a part.  I wish I wouldn’t let her comments about my work hurt me.  I know I’m intelligent.  I know I’m an organized and dedicated worker.  I know I don’t have her experience.  I know we have completely different viewpoints when it comes to business.

I also can’t forgive her for how she behaved during my cancer experience.

She was annoyingly “supportive” before my surgery.  She insisted on having Husband’s phone number and used it when she didn’t feel updates were coming frequently enough.  She was very upset when I told her she COULD NOT come to the hospital. (I was already dealing with both parents.  I didn’t need someone else to make feel better.)  On the day after my return home, she brought her 3 year old over and proceeded to contradict me when I told the toddler to please stop harassing my dog.  And then she would call me every few days to ask what she could do for me.  And when I told her I’d love it if she could come get me and take me for coffee, she agreed.  And then cancelled on me four times.  It was a year before she could actually make that coffee date.  By that time I didn’t care.

To be fair, her grandmother did die right after my surgery.  She was 102.  And Frenemy was the executor of her will, so there was a lot to do and much drama (of her making).  My first voyage outside of home was to her grandmother’s visitation.  But she couldn’t pull it together to take me for coffee.  And I’m not sure I would be so upset if she hadn’t made the plans and then cancelled at the last minute.  That time was difficult for me since I wasn’t allowed to drive and was at the mercy of others to get out into the world.

I know I’ve said all this before.  I thought I was over it.  I thought I was over not getting the promotion I wanted (and was told I would get).  I thought I was over he need to be “better” than me so much that she actually did get a promotion.  (So we wouldn’t be at the same level.  Cause that wouldn’t be “true”.)  I thought I was over acting crazy at my job and sobbing with frustration when I can’t wrap my head around what someone else wants from me.

The point was supposed to be that I stressed myself out so badly over this that I think I actually made myself sick.  I came home Friday with every joint and muscle aching.  Saturday I slept most of the day and felt feverish.  I didn’t feel like myself again until last night.

I’m not sure things are going to blow over this time.  I’ve been removed from the project we were arguing about.  Boss Man says it’s not personal and gave a list of perfectly reasonable reasons for the exclusion.   But I still feel like I’ve screwed myself out of something that could have given some new experience.  Instead, she gets to focus solely on this project and I get all the leftover crap she has had on her plate for months.

Great job me!

But, as always, after the crazy outburst, I feel calmer and more in control.  I’m going to choose to focus on my personal life and make the job that thing that I do eight hours a day, five days a week, to keep the wolf from the door.  Not important.  Just something I do.  I will try to make this my mantra.  It’s not who I am or who I want to be.  I care about doing my job well.  But apparently I care too much.

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2 thoughts on “

  1. I’m sorry. I don’t work with actual people, so I can only sympathize. It’s way easier to lose your shit with a friend, because they’re supposed to understand. They’re supposed to be “safe” to speak truth to. But it hurts even more when we (the friends) are clueless because we’re so self-centered or ego-driven or oblivious or Asperger or whatever.

    Anyway, I am very sorry. Regardless, she’s still gonna be your friend, no matter what secret or not so secret grudges you have for each other. Because that’s the way you roll. ❤

    Personally, I would (figuratively, of course) cold cock that bitch and dump her off the (figurative) closest pier. Maybe that's why I only have 1 friend. The rest are lying in Superior's secretive watery grasp (figuratively, of course).

    • Yes, my love. I do roll that way. Although, I wish I didn’t. I wish I were a better person about it, though, and could just take her in my arms and make whatever whackado she’s feeling go away. Or maybe I just wish she would do that to me. 😉 Thank you for your sympathies.

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