Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Not much to update, or I'd be writing more often. I'm busy trying to clean up my credit report once and for all, anxiously awaiting the response from the collection agency looking to extort money from my old apartment lease, and just hoping that this all passes as quickly and smoothly as possible so I can get back on track financially speaking, and start working toward more grown-up goals than simply paying my bills on time. Money stresses me out. I've got enough to worry about, so I hate that it has overtaken my time and brainspace so much lately.
I finally got in my clinic to see a therapist last week. I recounted my whole experience regarding the Paxil Debacle, and she was simply horrified. She sat in amazement and listened to me tell her all about how it came to be that I got divorced, moved here for a new job and a new boyfriend, lost the job, and then accidentally went temporarily insane. And when she refocused momentarily on the employment front, trying to see how focused I am on getting my career going again, I mentioned my hopes and shaky plans of opening my own business. She was amazed. "It's such a good sign," she said, "that you can have goals and such hope for the future. Most really successful entrepreneurs have gone through similar things--really impossible odds, insurmountable obstacles--but they kept hope and perservered. Most of the people I see would have simply given up if they'd experienced the things you have. They'd crumble and just quit trying. It's just amazing that you haven't lost your drive even after all of this, and I really think you can do it." She was very take-charge about getting things set in place so that I don't have to deal with a loss of Lexapro, and apologized profusely for the way I was treated by her associates, saying she would be speaking to someone to be sure they know this sort of thing is happening. Something about that meeting really lifted my spirits... I guess simply knowing someone acknowledges the wrongs that were done to me, and apologizing for it (even though she had nothing to do with it) really helped me put that experience behind me. Just one of those loose ends tied up and put away neatly, I guess.
In the meantime, I've managed to keep about 30-34 hours/week at work, which is good financially speaking, but strangely seems more demanding than my 56+ hrs at the restaurant did... but all in all, it's a good job and I'm thankful that this is where I ended up during this "interim" period for me. The Girl was sick all week last week. The flu turned into a nasty sinus and ear infection. She was miserable. She was finally over it just as The Boy came down with it. Lucky for me Rusty can stay home with him, or I don't know what I'd do. And all I can do is pray I don't come down with it next, because I know I can't afford to miss a week of work!
I finally got in my clinic to see a therapist last week. I recounted my whole experience regarding the Paxil Debacle, and she was simply horrified. She sat in amazement and listened to me tell her all about how it came to be that I got divorced, moved here for a new job and a new boyfriend, lost the job, and then accidentally went temporarily insane. And when she refocused momentarily on the employment front, trying to see how focused I am on getting my career going again, I mentioned my hopes and shaky plans of opening my own business. She was amazed. "It's such a good sign," she said, "that you can have goals and such hope for the future. Most really successful entrepreneurs have gone through similar things--really impossible odds, insurmountable obstacles--but they kept hope and perservered. Most of the people I see would have simply given up if they'd experienced the things you have. They'd crumble and just quit trying. It's just amazing that you haven't lost your drive even after all of this, and I really think you can do it." She was very take-charge about getting things set in place so that I don't have to deal with a loss of Lexapro, and apologized profusely for the way I was treated by her associates, saying she would be speaking to someone to be sure they know this sort of thing is happening. Something about that meeting really lifted my spirits... I guess simply knowing someone acknowledges the wrongs that were done to me, and apologizing for it (even though she had nothing to do with it) really helped me put that experience behind me. Just one of those loose ends tied up and put away neatly, I guess.
In the meantime, I've managed to keep about 30-34 hours/week at work, which is good financially speaking, but strangely seems more demanding than my 56+ hrs at the restaurant did... but all in all, it's a good job and I'm thankful that this is where I ended up during this "interim" period for me. The Girl was sick all week last week. The flu turned into a nasty sinus and ear infection. She was miserable. She was finally over it just as The Boy came down with it. Lucky for me Rusty can stay home with him, or I don't know what I'd do. And all I can do is pray I don't come down with it next, because I know I can't afford to miss a week of work!
Comments:
Post a Comment
