Magnificent Octopus Debacle

Ok. Magnificent Octopus almost done, but I have almost a month for the *real* deadline, so I'm good there. However, I have to present Magnificent Octopus tomorrow. The presentation is what decides whether I "pass" or "fail". I'm doing my Power Point slides as we speak.

I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, and I'm scared. I mean really. And I know I'm a perfectionist, and that nothing is ever going to be as good as I want it to be, but I'm still scared.

I'm also scared not that I will totally screw this up, but that certain people from my school-job thing like that "Sophie" (not her real name). It's open to the public, so I can't stop her from coming, but... I just don't want her to.

Sophie's the type of person around whom you NEVER want to present ANYTHING that isn't all about how great she is. You can just *tell* that she is making mental notes about how you just contradicted yourself, you mispronounced something, you just used the wrong word, etc., along with how you should have looked better, blah, blah, blah. And the crappy part is, most of the time, she's just talking out of her butt to have something to say to look intelligent. And she will try to argue with you when you try to defend yourself, painting you into a corner where you either just give up and politely say "ok, point taken", or you start raving like a mad bitch--either way *you* look bad.
So I'm scared she's going to come. And Miss Nastypants.

Or maybe I'm just looking for something to worry about. I'm just scared, that's all.

My sister told me last night that I don't have to take questions from anyone other than my committee during my presentation. At least that's good. So I have to find a way to politely tell Sophie to put a sock in it until the end. Deep in my heart, I think she'll be there; it would be so exactly like her, and she seems to have a problem with me anyway, so I'm sure she wouldn't give up the opportunity to restock "Ancodia Sucks And Is So Stupid Because..." ammo. I mean, she already talks about me behind my back, already tries to make me look bad; she points out in meetings all of the stuff that I don't do, or said I'd do and didn't (or changed, etc...); what she's too stupid to realise is that all of that is between me and my manager, and my manager already knows. So her dumb crap fails for all of the people it needs to (me and my manager), but other people in my lab group walk away with opinions that I don't know. They may think I am a total retard, like she tries to make me appear to be.

I don't care what other people think of me. As long as I'm ok with my employer, my instructors, and myself (and my Significant Other when I have one), I don't give a damn what The Man (or Sophie) On The Street thinks. Only the important people count. And I keep telling myself that, and living my life that way, but emotionally, this stuff still is hurtful. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't.

Yeah, I'm the dip who actually obeyed when her elementary school teachers told her, "just do your own work, and don't worry about what Sophie thinks". And I don't understand why the Sophies of the world always pick me as their target. Because I don't give them the reaction they want? Maybe.

Regardless... I'm still nervous that she might take the opportunity to show up (or Miss Nastypants, or someone else who is just going to be hateful).

I'm just scared.

And I haven't even touched on how I'm getting no help from my advisor. No prep run-through, no pep talk, no nothing. She hasn't even read Magnificent Octopus yet. This isn't normal, I'm told. So I'm scared there, too. She says it's because she knows I've done a really good job, and I don't need her as much as others, & so forth, but... How much I need her isn't totally all of the point; how scared I am is part of the point, too. I have to do another Magnificent Octopus in about three years, and I'll be damned if I'm using the same person; I'll rot in hell first. I need more help. I don't know all of this. Everyone seems to think that I do. Or, my advisor does, at least. When she told me yesterday that she still hadn't read it, I just said "ok" like the stupid moron I am. But, really...what else could I say?

Ok; I have to get back to work and stop thinking this way or I will start crying.

Grr.

After this is over tomorrow, I am going to do something very, very nice for myself. I'm not sure what yet. But something.

In the words of Vince VanPatten: What a debacle!

Still going...

I'm still typing. This is what I get for procrastinating.

I've been listening to George Noory (Coast to Coast AM) at nights to stay awake while I work. Have been for the past few days.

I think I have damaged my brain.

This just sucks.

I'm still typing. My head hurts, my neck and back are in an absolute spasm--I mean literally; I could crack walnuts on my shoulders. My brain is BLANK, and...

I'm bored. I hate doing this. This is no longer a labour of love. I have other things I want to do, other things I want to think about, other...

Grr.

Phooey.

Dreams?

    I'm still writing my Magnificent Octopus.  It's overdue tomorrow, and that's when I've promised to deliver it.  God, I suck.  I've been typing pretty continuously for the past three days.  This blows.  I need a break; my neck is killing me.  I mean seriously, as in if I try to hold my head up straight it hurts a lot, and I have this weird burning feeling in my lower neck and shoulders. 

 

Ouchy.  Whine.

 

    I've been getting weird sleep, only about four hours or so at a time.  Last night, I decided to treat myself, and take six.  Got up this morning, started typing again, and after about four hours, I was hit with the most overwhelming feeling of sleepiness that I just had to take a nap, because it was starting to take an inordinate amount of time to just generate a sentence or two.  So I slept.  And I dreamt. 

 

I mention it because I haven't done that in a very long time.  Probably two years or more. 

 

    Now, I know that all this time, I have been dreaming; I'm not *that* unaware of bodily processes.  But I didn't remember them, not even the slightest whispering scent of a dream, for a very long time. 

 

This hasn't bothered me in the least.

 

    I've been frankly happier without them.  Sure, some of them are nice, but the ones that are unpleasant or hurtful are SO unpleasant or hurtful that I've been quite happily plugging along not remembering anything that might have been dreamt the night before.  No dreams to make me sad, nothing. 

 

    This one wasn't so terribly unpleasant.  In the long run, I could have lived without it, but it wasn't too bad.  It definitely counted as a bad-good dream.  Or maybe a neutral-good dream.  :-)  It was cool because the room I was in was totally black rock, including the walls, and one wall had water falling from an unseen location at the top, down the wall.  And this wall had small shelves that held small glass candle holders interspersed across it, which had a really pretty effect visually, in addition to breaking up the fall of the water enough to cause it to softly gurgle.  It may be something I have seen before somewhere, but I don't recall where at this moment. 

 

    It's just strange that I would start back dreaming now.  Why now?  :-)  Did I give myself too much sleep? 

 

If so, I guess I need to quit that.  Back to the Magnificent Octopus. 

If I had to describe myself...

Now that I think of it, if I had to describe myself, I would say that I am adaptable. My senior superlative should have been, "Most Likely To Never Once Appear To Miss Air Conditioning, Hot Showers, Mass Transit, Privacy, Or Pizza Whilst Contributing Greatly To Tribe Survival By Learning How To Hunt, Kill, Make Fire, Construct Shelter, Help Coordinate a School System, Help Fight Gross Infectious Diseases, Help Institute A Code Of Law, And Roll Passable Cigarettes For Others After The Coming Apocalypse, Who Cares If She's Quiet A Lot".

No, rilly.

I'm adaptable. And resourceful. And if not smart, at least not stupid. Or, I'm smart in some things, and really totally lobotomised in others. But so are most people, I guess. And I'm a reasonably hard worker at most things (ok, well, an obsessive worker at a few things, diligent at most, and an absolute fuck-off on a few other things--see? bell-shaped curve again...).

My point is, I'm not a bad person. I'm not a psychotic bitch, or a bunny-brained bimbo who needs to be treated like this. So why do it?

Can you tell I'm obsessing over this? It's because it's so prototypical of 99 and 44/100 % of my relationships. And I've been out of a relationship for a while, and this stuff just reminded me why.

Why do women get rewarded for bad behaviour?

If I were a bunny brain, he would have not pushed like he did.

This is the same thing going on as the flat tire comparison...one ex-bf left me stranded to change my own tire. I didn't think anything of it; I just called him, said I had a flat and might be too late and dirty to do anything but I'd hurry. I changed my tire, jetted over to where I was supposed to be, cleaned up quickly in the bathroom (just the sort of thing has always made me feel like Ramona Quimby, for reasons I'll not bother to think about), and voila! Or voila tout, rather. No one cared, and ex-bf was annoyed that I was late.


Around a few months-ish later, I'm riding with a friend. Tire goes flat. I get out to help her change it, but she's on her cell phone, talking to her bf, and starting to cry. She doesn't want me to touch it, because she is not sure what to do. [Ed. note: Huh?] I can't deal with hysterical crying (I can deal with crying just fine; I can't deal with the hysterical crying, throwing shit, hyperventilating, and all that crap if you're not being chased by a spree killer), so I just shut the hell up. Bf comes, changes the tire, and has to take her right away to get a new tire, because she is afraid to drive her car with the tiny temporary tire. Why? It's "too small", and doesn't "look right". O-kay, then. Bf and Fluffernut go in his car, and Ancodia, having volunteered, pilots the S.S. Deathtrap.

Ok; the temptation to pull a bunny-brained "But I don't want to drive the big, scary thing!" and leave him totally stuck was almost overwhelming. He deserved it, in my opinion. I'm just too nice.

Butsoanyway.

We get to Ye Olde Tyre Shoppe, and bf is not only responsible for putting the damn temporary tire on, but he also pays for her new tire! And listens to her whine about how scared she was, and comforts her!

I remember all too clearly how I was: outraged, irritated, amazed, baffled...and jealous. All at once. Just privately. I mean, I'm sure I looked normal, but... I was in total shock. What the hell?!? She didn't just escape from Freddy Krueger, dude; it was a fricking flat tire. I personally have just classified her as a Drama Queen; he's rewarding her for this nonsense!

There is injustice in this world, iff'n you haven't noticed.

I'm just trying to figure out how to not always be on the short-stick end of this injustice. Sheesh.

Yay.

Mom is ok and back home. She says her cat missed her. :-) It probably did.

I need to be writing my Magnificent Octopus clean-up, but instead wasted about three hours on what was supposed to be a thirty-minute discussion about computers. I don't get why some men are so stubborn. I was getting help from someone I know; we were IMing while I was at the website. I tried to say at first, as politely as possible, that I don't personally prefer to deal with this particular company. I just don't like them. The one experience I had trying to order from them over the phone with a corporate discount was frustrating enough that, in the middle of ordering, I just said "forget it" and hung up, albeit politely. I think they are a pack of scam artists and undertrained reps. In short, through Eviljob I get a corporate discount. On our Personnel site (it has a name, but that would give it away), there is a blurb from this computer company to the effect of, "give this code, and get a certain percentage off of personal computer and peripheral purchases". Ok? Easy enough, right? Wrong. First, they tell me there is no such offer. Then I get put on hold while doofus checks. Then they say that's online orders only. Then I get put back on hold while doofus checks again. Then they say it's only for purchases made with the corporate card. Then I get put back on hold...ad infinitum. Finally, as I'm struggling to open the cap on my Geritol, Doofus' Supervisor decides it actually *is* a discount I can use, paying with my own money, and over the phone, too. You know--kind of like the original blurb said?

Go figure.

So, ok. I start the ordering process. I come out with a total. Is that with or before the discount? I get put back on hold. He comes back. New total; the previous one was without the discount. Ok, since it's a difference of $x, then I would like to add a thingamabob. Ok; we add the thingamabob. New total is significantly higher than it should be. Did the corporate discount drop off? No. Ok...what's accounting for the huge price change, then? That's just the price. Could you check? No. Ok, take the thingamabob off. The new total is $x. Higher than the price before...this is without the discount. No--it includes the discount. No it doesn't; yes, it does. I would like to speak with whomever you have been consulting in managing the addition of this corporate discount because, frankly, I'm not convinced you are correct. You can't. Why not? You just can't. Ok, I would like to speak with your Supervisor. You can't. Why not? He said he does not want to be bothered with anything about this order again. Truthfully, I've worked in a call centre environment before, and that sounds more like an action against you than me; please put your Supervisor on the phone. No. Why not? Listen; it's only $x. I sell systems all day long where I don't have to haggle over $x. Why are you making such a big deal about it? I'm making a big deal about it, because *your* company chose to put an offer on *my* company's Personnel site offering this discount; so far in this conversation, you have tried seven ways to Sunday to talk me out of using it, now it's not being added, and you are lying and telling me that it is when it clearly isn't.

And so on.

Finally, I just gave up. I know that, probably, the doofus didn't know how to add it, or something. Maybe he was just hired the day before. I don't know and, by the time I got off the phone, I didn't care. I ended up gladly paying a couple hundred more elsewhere. And I decided to steer clear of this company.

So now fast-forward a few years, and this guy I know wants me to order from them. It's online, so ok. I agree to go to the site and at least look.

Three hours of haggling with him later, of politely trying to say I don't care to deal with these dillweeds, I'm getting ready to purchase. Ancodia has given up; she knows when people aren't listening, and she's conceded.
Then *HE* decides Ancodia should not purchase. Huh?

Like this whole thing has been an exercise in "can I get you to jump when I say jump"? Which is typical of way too many of my relationships. This is what I get for being reasonable. Or at least able to be reasoned with.

I really wanna know why this is.

I try to be nice. I try to be adaptable. I try to not complain, not whine, not ask for things. There is no reward in that. I'm not going to stop, but still... Why does it seem that people, especially men, seem to seek out where I'm going to draw the line and try to push me over? And then, like what happened tonight, drag me back? If we'd had more time, he probably would have switched on me again. That's how I feel, at least.

I just don't get it.

It's always something

Today my mother goes into the hospital. Of course, I can't take off from Eviljob. I hope nothing goes wrong with her procedure. I'm feeling very sad and uninspired right now. I took her today to get a pedicure. She always complains that her feet are cold; I thought she might like the soak in the foot spa, and she did. I walked out of there half-bankrupt, but we won't go there. It would be cool right now if I believed in god so that I could pray, but all I can do is worry. She was talking tonight about how she misses her mother. I think she's worried also, and I really hate this. In addition, my son-friend's car is all screwed up, and I have to come up with the money to fix it. Something about the water pump, when I just paid for the head gasket to be re-whatevered. This really sucks. I mean, I'm glad that I've got my Magnificent Octopus off and all (well, at least my Magnificent Fetal Octopus...ok, ok; it's a damn Zygote Octopus, butsoanyway...), but this life thing is just killing me. I want to cry about everything. And, really, work- and school-wise, I'm doing well; it's the other parts of life that I'm just not. I want everyone to be employed, happy, healthy, and...they're just not. I want someone to talk with; I don't have it. I want world peace. And a car I can sit comfortably in. And all the charges dropped. And that hot agent's phone number...

Oh--wait; that's not me. :-)

I hope everything is ok tomorrow. I really, really do. 'Cos I don't know if I can take it if it isn't.