JOURNAL
What an unbelievably and unnecessarily and absolutely stupid fucking day, my god.
Typically, at least as of my current work schedule - which is always in flux these days, it seems - I am grateful for Tuesdays. It mirrors my initial and typical work schedule, wherein I get to go in a little later each day which allows me to better accomidate my nearly lifelong sleep schedule of staying up a few hours later than the average person and sleeping in a little later than them while still managing to get a full eight hour work day in. That didn't change today, but it's why I usually look forward to Tuesdays, because all the other days are early as heck for what my body is used to for my circadian rhythm. Where most days are just a blur of me going through the motions, doing a job well enough to receive praise without being the greatest in the room, and then clocking out and forgetting it all until the next shift - Tuesday allowing the benefit of what I prefer in a sleep and work schedule - today was anything but that.
It should also be noted that Tuesdays are when we have vendor training at work. That is, companies that create and market music equipment which my company sells and supports come in and train us on new products, specs, price points, special offers, usage, release dates and the like - while my workplace also caters lunch, which is usually from decent to pretty great restaurants in the area, a different area than I live in. So it's cool to get a break from the mundane work day and enjoy food I wouldn't typically try or have the justification to foot the bill for, while sometimes being bored out of my mind by the presentation and other times being absolutely enthralled.
Today, however. Today. Today, it was an absolute shitshow.
Lunch was ordered. It started off just fine. With the varying start times we have across the office, they order lunch every couple of hours. Makes sense. However, this time around, they didn't order enough each round. When the orders did arrive, some people were taking more than is reasonable and certainly more than was alloted for. So each delivery began to get snatched by different departments because "Our department didn't get a fair share last time, your deparftment ate it all before we even had a chance". Which is true on some levels, but only with regard to a couple of people in each department. The simple fact is that not enough was ordered, which was compounded by a bad apple or two in each department being a gluttonous asshole. But when the departments started racing to the door and began holding deliveries hostage for their department, thinking they were doing it on the sly while doing anything but, I just about lost my shit. We are all grown ass adults. Everyone should know better than to compound an already lame situation by playing favorites, trying to be secretive about it, favoring their "clique", and so on. Once the food was all gone - which absolutely was too soon and with some people enjoying none, some enjoying less than others, and some enjoying more than others - it turned into a huge finger pointing game, a game of placing blame on others, a game of favoritism. Games I am too old for and which I have zero interest in playing. Games that are indicative of the types of seemingly inevitble actions, habits, dynamics, and relationships that form in an office wokrplace environment - which was the biggest thing that caused me to be hesitant about with regard to applying for this position in the first place (to speak nothing of the monthly birthday acknowledgement with cake or treats, shit is so dumb - but that's another journal entry).
It all culminated with little groups of people from each department getting together and whining about it. In full view of everyone else in each department - and in view of the entire office, collectively. It was like being in junior high school, I swear. Each and everyone in that office is at least of legal drinking age (that's 21 years old where I live), with some people in each department being in their 50s and 60s. We're adults. Like, what the fuck!
Then. Then people in different departments started ordering food from other places for their department specifically. And boy did that cause the person who ordered the original food a lot of distress and they, too, made a big stink about it. Nearly a toddler level tantrum, no joke. In plain sight of my entire department. How embarassing for them. I get it, they probably feel bad for fucking up the amount of food ordered and now maybe even felt a little guilty - warranted or not - by how it all went down, but gotdamn. You're in your 30s having a meltdown in plain view of everyone in my department. Over food. Ugh
All of that nonsense interupted, at least for me, by attending the most abysmmally boring vendor training ever. I didn't learn anything about the products. All I did was watch some middle-aged asshole toot his own horn about his guitar playing while he played guitar at a very mediocre level (I shouldn't judge, I can't play at all, but...), and nearly doze off to sleep. Only to emerge during the real shitstorm surrounding the catered food.
And the food? The employee who ordered it was talking it up so much, as if he was a paid hypeman or something. Then other co-workers who had eaten at the restaurant responsible also began to sing its praise. I wouldn't call myself a foodie by any extent of the word. That said, I love good food while simultanesouly hating the fact that I have to eat to survive. All that to say, I was looking forward to the food at least being delicious, considering all the bullshit surrounding it and the underwhelimg break from typical workplace monotony that happened.
Nope.
Almost the absolute worst catered so-called "street tacos" I've ever had. The meat was beyond dry and super tasteless - regardless of the type (at least for the beef and chicken I tried - you'll never catch me eating catered or delivery seafood in any form), minimal to nonexistent toppings, sauces were equally flavorless or subpar, the tortilla were overcooked initially and then sat to get soggy and mushy between cooking and delivery. And each variety of taco had a stupid name. It was horrendous. I finsihed my two, though, especially during and at the tail end of all the fuckery surrounding them was concerned. I did not want to add to the situation by throwing away or offering away perfectly good food in that stupid fucking maelstrom. But gotdamn. I have never had a worse "street taco" in my life, fullstop.I feel bad bitching, these are VERY first world problems. But I also say, even first world problems are still problems - and these are my problems. Today. That said, these are the types of situations and people I try to keep out of my life so as to avoid these first world problems. I typically keep my head down, stay in my own lane, keep my circle small (typically minimal, lately zero irl), and remove people or things that will invariably bring about situations that arise for no other reason than selfishness and the like.
In other news, I am not experiencing liver failure, according to the doctors, so that's something. I am, however, definitely pre-diabetic and will be going back for an actual test for full blown diabetes at the request of my doctor. Probably for the best, I've wondered if and eventually figured I was pre-diabetic or possibly full blown diabetic. Working on my diet and exercise as personal discipline and initiative allow - which is sometimes on point and other times greatly lacking. 100% gonna push me to work on my drinking. It's definitely a kick in the butt to work on my diet and exercise in earnest now too, with confirmation of pre and possibility of full blown diabetes. Awful news aleviated with not wonderful news delivered in its place. Isn't that the way life goes.
Lately I have been having so many dreams about previous romantic partners that end, just as I manage to pull myself out of them, in physical relations. I have waxed poetic and clinical about how I don't really find myself to be a sexual person by nature, typically only having those feelings for people I am emotionally attracted to and invested in. All this to say, I absolutely love beautiful people - especially but not specifically women - and acknowledge them when I encounter them, but it's never one of those situations where it gets the blood pumping and I start having thoughts about having sex or anything. I don't know if that's even how truly sexual people think, but it's how I imagine they do. Anyhow. I rarely go down that road mentally, especially with regard to past lovers. I have no idea what it means and most of my romantic relationships - well, all but one, truthfully - went down in a blaze of un-glory. So why I am even thinking about these people? Let alone in that fashion? And why can't I shake the feelings brought to the surface as a result of doing so in dreamstate, even will on into the latter portion of the awake day? I hate my brain.
