Woman at work doing the minimum possible to keep from being fired. Not really my business, except when it directly and measurably is. Always an excuse, always someone else to blame, always the most work to circulate for. Has not taken any definitive steps to actually solving the problems, only surface changes, stop-gap lip-service, which is where I lose my patience. I report (only) the clearly reportable to the supervisor, mostly to protect the other scrub techs who she dumps work on. I can deal with moderately inept scrubs, but add in the malicious, neglectful attitude, and how it affects those who prefer not to say anything, and I feel a responsibility to the techs who are so capable and attentive and hard working. Certainly she will consider me a tattle-tale and a crank. She has great "self esteem" based on what she wants to be, not how she actually is.
All in all, it's all very sad. She has no idea how incompetent she is, how inconsistent. I was rooting for her to sort it out, because she's not stupid, she's just assumptive and entitled. Maybe that's not as amenable to correction as I'd hoped. Poor woman, if only she opened her own eyes to herself. But that's her job, and no one can do it for her.
Thinking about scripts a lot this week, people living according to shoulds, twisting around their realities according to expectations. About holidays, weddings, houses, jobs, money, siblings, children. And how D and I have resisted and waited and transformed the assumptions. We met and became completely attached, then lived together, eventually married, changed my name years later - even to finally taking a middle name. Worked, then went and got degrees. Getting our first house in our 40s. Never wanted children, either of us. Bless the good parents, but don't count us in. We've done it all backward, but it feels right. Who knows what might be next?
Burn the scrips, throw them on the fire.
A couple of people at work right before I left, made a point of telling me how much work a house was going to be. (Not that anyone commenting here would do that... Phil*. ) Well, duh. Both of us grew up in houses, I've painted and drywalled and mowed, and stoked a coal furnace, painted the garage myself one summer, and everything else. D has much the same experience, aside from the coal. We are both thoughtful adults who know (more or less ) what we are getting into. Work, but for ourselves, and the Cat. We've chosen carefully, we've thought about this over many years. Telling us, "houses are work" is the same as saying "you have not thought about this, you idiot" in the same way as all those who told us we should buy a house when we were renting. Make up their fucking minds.
Marriage is hard, so those same kind
of people say. Well when it's good, it's not hard work. It's attention and care, effort - but not a chore. Having children (for us would be) - miserable, but not for those who love it, and have a good match in their children. How many people think they should tell others that they SHOULD have children, like it has never occurred to them?
Well, we are not kid people, never have been, never will be, not going to change because someone says "Oh, you Should!"
Oh, well, we never thought about that very important and personal decision, I guess we should
have kids! Silly us! And we should never own a house because it's too much work. We should never have moved to Boston because it's SO Expensive! Cats destroy everything, never have a cat! Never get married, it's so hard!
Long ago, worked with a woman in her 30's having her first child, convinced it would not change their lifestyle at all
- anyone pulling her aside, holding on to her shirt, screaming, "NO, Everything is going to CHANGE!" would be forgiven.
We are not doing that. We have a list of Things We Need to Do, and Things We Would Like To Do (some long term. Including having a train track around the top edge of the room.† ) We have a pretty good handle on it, after so many years. We are buying at the Bottom of the market, at a great interest rate. Unlike if we'd bought when everyone was telling us we HAD to buy a house.
We are up for this. We can do this, we are not stupid or deluded. "Everyone" is wrong. Everything you know is wrong
. Know why you are doing something, it's not work at all.
And what if we die before the mortgage is done? Once we've rented it from the bank, but had space enough? What heirs need we worry about? Thirty years from now, or forty, or fifty? What difference? Now, to have space, and wood to resonate my own voice, and D's guitar, bliss.
Hopefully photos tomorrow, from us and the inspector. A day later - if I have to stay at work. I go in to work after 3, because I promised to cover for another RN, for the day, long ago, and completely forgot. But they covered for me, because I have to meet the sewer and house inspector at 10 and noon, & they got staff from the Main - but not after eight hours. Fair enough, they could have insisted I cover the shift, rightfully so. Tis the season. Monday off. Boxing Day. Works for me, as I will indeed be boxing up stuff.
Christmas would have been nice. I'll be doing Packing instead. Party for Groundhog Day in February. It's becoming official. I want someone to say, "You've lived here how long? And it looks this good?" D hedged, "well, if we get it that good." I sneered at him. Really. He knows better. I has a talent, I has skillz. It will be impressive.
Not enough chairs, though.
*Just joshing, Phil‡.
†How cool would that
‡And you get your own footnote to boot.
Labels: house rant, work