So, I don’t know if you noticed, but my last two posts were pretty much all doom and gloom with a healthy side of bitter complaining, which made me think it was perhaps time to put down the keyboard, already, and maybe have some chocolate or whatever else crabby pregnant ladies are supposed to be needing these days.
I’m not saying it was inappropriate of me to be complaining- I’m just saying I was depressing my own damn self, even with the following good reasons I had for complaining.
A second course of antibiotics in as many weeks prescribed by this new OB of mine- whereas prior I had been ridiculously congratulating myself on being a paragon of health, all of a sudden I was popping antibiotics like they were pills, and every call from the OB was to tell me there was SOMETHING ELSE wrong with my insides, and of course Dr. Google was no help, with the alarmingly insistent diagnosis of a baby with a million heads and no immune system and probably cancer of the umbilical cord, or whatever (I stopped reading).
I don’t know if it was the antibiotics or the Indian food or my own fucking bad luck, but I spent two days suffering from diarrhea (Dr. Google was also helpful on this front- I had colitis and a high probability of shitting my pants in public- clearly I did not stop reading soon enough). It was accompanied by the rat-tat-tat of machine gun farts, and of course I lost my shit (OMFG, that’s so terrible I’m just going to leave it there), deciding that I was going to lose the baby as I wasn’t absorbing any nutrients and I was going to dehydrate myself, and this combined with the earlier colitis diagnosis meant I was headed to a life-long struggle with intestinal problems.
Add to this the belief I had that the minute my pregnancy tracker flipped to the second trimester, angels were going to descend and shower me with positive energies and good feelings and so on, and when this didn’t happen (I swear, I am a generally intelligent person, but the things I let myself believe are simply INSANE sometimes) I was further convinced something was amiss and I was probably going to lose the baby, and holy shit, I am wearing myself out just typing it.
Anyhoo. All that to say that last week wasn’t exactly my most shining moment, and there didn’t seem to be much point in blogging about how horrible it all was. SO.
Today, on the other hand, today is my last day at this office, and therefore I am feeling somewhat light and airy. There is free lunch being served, I am wearing yoga pants, and I will never have to scan a 300 page document ever again.
I will, however, miss reading about the latest office drama: every once in a while, management caters lunch for staff, as they have been here all night and are most likely hungry. Apparently, certain other people have been taking off with plates stacked high with food, as others have come out of the lab only to find the food all gone. This has resulted in a flurry of strongly worded emails and whispered conversations in the halls (interesting fact I did not previously know: management are as bad, if not worse, gossips than the regular masses. I photocopy using the copier in Human Resources, and as long as I keep my head down, I can overhear a variety of gossip, bitching, and tattle-ing. This morning’s horror-whisper conversation was about WHO, EXACTLY, had taken the platter of BACON). Additionally, contractors are not invited to these meal free for alls, unless of course, the contractor is the buddy of the plant manager, in which case, of course, two cookies for him.
As an aside, those of you working in corporate America: does your company call your year-end party, if indeed you have one, a Christmas party? At the large pharmaceutical firm I worked for prior, the hubbub over Christmas versus Holiday versus Kumbaya We Are Diverse led to a January party simply called the “Winter Event.” Honestly, I was sort of down with the Winter Event, as it was in the dreary part of January, the occurrence of Christmas themed sweaters passing as “formal wear” decreased significantly, and there was no “accidentally” calling it a Christmas party, when in fact, a large proportion of said company’s employees DON’T EVEN CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS.
This office hasn’t gotten the Diversity memo, meaning the December 4th party was indeed listed as a Christmas party, complete with tree, gifts, and Christmas music. I am not generally a fan of insincere gestures, but I do think they might have thrown those of us who don’t celebrate Christmas a wee bone in the form of a “holiday party,” or some such.
IN ANY CASE, that is all done for me, and I get to return to my daily yoga, bizarre eating habits, and daily talks with the cats. I am also hoping to be somewhat more entertaining in general, here, but that’s a tall order.