Lionheart
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Christmas. The extended family has the flu and I don't want to go to the shelter for dinner this year as they are full up with people. I will probably stay home and thank my lucky stars that I am not suffering from the flu.
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After what was otherwise a pretty lovely but (and) very busy day, where I also tried very hard to meet the needs of others (at work, I normally do), and despite being thanked by them and their families & complimented profusely (which is nice, but not even necessary), after a lovely short discussion with one male scheduler where I indicated I needed more assistance, his female coworker then called me & threatened implicitly to report me to my Boss. (This was in response to her error of cancelling a staff & now being short staffed). As she did this about something else to a different co-worker already, & I had asked them how they responded, I gave the same response: "Ok". Needless to say, this already recently followed her assigning a 20 minute call for 5 minutes daily (& people tell me I already accomplish in 15 minutes what takes most 1 hour).
So here I sit, on Christmas Day (officially), thinking about a job I can't stand, waiting for a Boss's call when they return friday, the fact that working it is like dealing with people who take pleasure in causing pain and grief, with a body already held together with gum & well wishes, & feeling like someone kicked me between the shoulders with a steel-toed boot (seriously. But I am at my limit of Tylenol for the day, & it never really sufficiently kicked in). But it is Christmas, & there's something so inherently wrong to me, that that should occupy my mind, or others should lack good will or cooperation. Though I don't think the scheduler likely celebrates Christmas, simply I'm guessing because of her nationality/ likely cultural beliefs. But I had still wished her a good break. :(
Somewhere I can remember feeling like this, a type of regret: At least once while I was a kid/ teen baby-sitting a 'difficult' (he was great) neighbours child/ children on New Year's eve, one of the few years my dad could get home at least post Christmas, & waving from the window (too conscientious to leave), & the people getting home very late, 3:30 or 4 a.m., and never sleeping, and the pay was lousy, and they were great people but drunk and no tip, laughing their heads off, & I thought I'll never do this again under the same circumstances, and my dad was dead a few months later.
But most of all, I don't understand how people take pleasure in being harmful/ damaging to others. Or maybe I don't understand how people have the resilience to not be bothered by people who do, and can separate the 1/100 or 1/1000 who do that from the others who are the opposite. But it seems to me, it's always the '1' who also is in the position of power, or power to cause grief or lasting harm.
Idk. It's Christmas. :( Surely this shouldn't be the focus when I give blood, sweat and tears. It's like an analogy of generating millions when 10 thousand is required, but having to live and defend every day the spending of a nickel. It's a horrible environment to work in. On the upside I got a 20$ bottle of Gaviscon, which I notice I mostly only need in relation to them. Like someone close to me today had to deal with them, and next thing also needed Gaviscon and 2 aspirins to chew. Something is fundamentally wrong with such a way of treating people. Though, who's fault is it to stay? And where or how do people get the energy, where-with-all, and opportunity to break away from toxic stress or stressful people? I doubt she'll think about it again, but I will have the repercussions.