I guess after whinging on about my work meeting the other day, I should at least give an update on how it went. I was all wound up and expecting the worst (being fired or made reduntant) but in fact the work doctor was very supportive. My manager wasn’t there though. Not sure what that means.

Anyway, the result is that I am officially off work until the 13th, at which time it will be reviewed. Apparently their main concern is to make sure that when I come back to work this time, I am able to stay at work, even if it means working at 20 hours a week. That’s good, because I have felt rushed to both go back to work and to increase my hours previously, which was quite stressful in and of itself. And I think they realised that me worrying about whether or not my job was on the line wasn’t helping.

The whole work thing frustrates me, because I know what I am normally capable of, yet when I am at work, I feel like I can’t do anything properly, or that it’s not good enough, or that it isn’t up to what I would have been able to do before. People say I am working fine, but I am not sure that I believe them. My mind feels foggy, I feel ssslllooowww and mired down, and I take the slightest criticism to heart.

Also there is the people thing. My second line manager is the Dragon Woman from Hell. No, seriously. She looks like a wrinkled up old Barbie-doll that’s been left in front of a fire too long. Of course, she has had ‘maintenance’ surgery (always around christmas, and always a convenient health problem; apendicitis one year, ‘women’s problems’ the next. I think she is running out of diseases. Funny that she can schedule them in advance). We speculate that she is fossilised, and no-one – not even she – knows her real age. Grown men have been known to cry when faced with her. Her subordinates live in fear of her moods. I have known her to intimidate the CEO! She has been hauled up to HR countless of times for the way she treats people (meanly and unethically) yet she still manages to hang around, because I guess in corporations $$$s count, and no-one will argue with her about a budget cut.

Bitching aside (though it is so much fun!), she has it in for me. Oh, she mouths the words. She’s called me her “star”. She’ll use you as long as she can, then discard you in a heap. Now that I am defined by her as ‘no longer useful’ she is doing every underhanded thing she can to get at me. She’s a sneaky sly bitch. Dad did a Druid card reading of my career a few months ago, and he called her the ‘Blonde lady with dark wings who is out to get you’. Never a truer word has been spoken.


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May 2002
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