Death is in the Air

The last couple of days I have been in a bit of a slump. Taking my medication. Taking my vitamins. Using my blue light. Exercising. Eating decently. But my mood has plummeted and either I am raging and going to murder someone or at least jab them in the eye with my pen or I am crying because I am so frustrated and upset.

It is not like this doesn’t happen at least once or twice a year. I know this. K knows this. But when it hits me like a ton of bricks I begin to panic. I start assessing myself and my moods almost compulsively. Knocking on all the doors and windows to make sure they are solid. Closed tight. Depression cannot even get a foot hold.

But it does and on these days I am a little more needy. A little more wanting comfort.

Yesterday at work I went from raging to crying to deciding the Andy must die. Yes it is a riff on The Chick’s Earl song but omg folks I was the angry teapot with steam coming out of her ears. 😤😤😤😤

I had (note the past tense) two long heavy duty boxes for pulling my orders. I could fill almost a whole order in the box instead of using an apple box which then takes multiple trips to my till to unload and go back for rest of order. A large order yesterday took me 4 trips to unload before I had all the items I needed.

When I got to work yesterday morning my cart and boxes had disappeared. I walked around to my back area in confusion. Not there. I walked all around the back. Not there.

It is not like these boxes are not written on. On all 4 sides clearly written was: Do not take this box. Curbside box for pulling orders. Do not take this box. Curbside box for pulling orders. ALL 4 FRICKEN SIDES!

I was pretty pissed off and mentioned to our assistant. Said I was going to get K to look on camera to see who it was. Told him I was going to beat whomever took my boxes have no doubt. And he laughed knowing it was true.

I have issues with the night crew. As far as I am concerned they do a shoddy job on some things. Not all. Just rotation. Putting product in the wrong spot. Pushing the correct product for that space back and putting overstock in front of it. Constantly telling their manager and BB that it is day staff not them.

When their manager told me that I laughed at him. I face the store every day, 5 days a week. I know. I know when product comes in. I know they are not checking their dates. Yesterday I was so frustrated I made BB come and climb stool to see. He was looking at dates and I said you need to step up to see the middle and back.

Excuse? Well maybe they are not checking their dates and recently the warehouse has been sending stock with earlier dates then we previously received. And? There are these things called eyes. And they are put into your face to see things.

Then while on the stool fixing the night staff’s shit the assistant calls me. My boxes were put in the crusher. The asshole grabbed the cart from in the back where the cleaners had rolled it, walked over to baler and crushed them. Asshole is Andy.

I had said before the night staff need reading lessons. And the dude wears glasses so it can’t be that. They literally think of what is easiet and best for them.

A lot of my time is fixing things they did incorrectly the first time. Drives me fricken batty.

K told me that I need to remember my expectations of myself and how to do a job are high. And I also expect others to work the same way I do. When the vast majority do not.

Usually the night staff can get out without my seeing them. Except when I work at 7. And Andy always works Friday into Saturday. Guess who starts at 7 Saturday? 😈😈😈😈

I cannot even replace the boxes as we are no longer receiving Rapid tests. 😭😭😭😭

Mama’s Tears Falling

This passed week was my week with T. I saw him one evening, Tuesday while the rest he was working at his dad’s after school. Was looking forward to Friday evening and Saturday with him. But as usual the best laid plans and all.

Friday evening he spent it in his room on his Xbox. Watching t.v. and playing his games. Saturday morning he slept and it was noon by the time that he finally arose. Around 3 or so his dad messages that they were coming to pick him up to help them unload the truck from his grandparents. They are moving from Winnipeg to Niverville, a closer commute to visit and a senior community.

And it snowballed. I messaged asking what the hell was going on? The ex says I can pick T up after work when I come and have him check the bolt pattern on the new rims for the car. I shot back that I was off because IT WAS MY WEEKEND WITH T.

There were tears. T cried because I was upset. And I hurt him. I told him this was my worst fear coming true. He no longer wanted to spend time with me. He only wanted to be with his father and friends. That it killed me. I have not had him home with me on the weekend for three weeks.

I made him cry. T that is. He was upset because his friend had gone to help them load up and begin to move things. The ex had canceled T when I asked him that he check with me before making plans on my weekend in case I had something I wanted us to do. So after cancelling him, they then message to tell him that J is there and they need his help to unload the van.

When I locked the door behind him, I made it to the bottom of the stairs before I crumbled. I hung onto the edge of the dishwasher and howled, the pain had to go somewhere, forced out of my throat. I sobbed until I could not breath. My heart was breaking and I did not know how to stop it.

I cried in the shower. I was able to stop when I got out but it happened again on the drive to the ex’s.

I was ok there, did not cry until I was driving down the drive to leave. Then I sobbed a little bit. Sobbed various times throughout the day yesterday. And now as I sit here, I am crying.

I am not ready for him to leave me. I am not ready for my son to grow up and spread his wings. The catch is, I want him to be independent and strong, able to are for himself, but I also want him to still be the little boy who will always need me.

Nov. 28/22