Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Get over yourself

So. Today was definitely a better day in so many ways.

Let me go back to Monday afternoon when I went to the lovely Dr. Brown to have my IUD put in. Let's just say that Aimee was right - it hurt like a motherfucker. And I suspect that if I hadn't had a c-section at 37 weeks but had a "regular" childbirth experience, it might not have been quite as painful.

I'm not a pain wimp - I usually forgo painkillers or any of that ilk because I just don't like the way they make me feel. Put it to you this way, when I was in the hospital post C-section the doctor on duty asked me if I wanted some Percoset to take home with me. I opted for Motrin instead. The doctor was duly impressed, apparently not everyone is as stupid as me and opts for the good stuff if for no other reason to have one with a cocktail later on when the baby has been crying for hours on end. Honestly, the c-section and recovery was a breeze for me. I was lucky, lucky, lucky.

So how is it that someone sticks a piece of plastic in my uterus and I go all haywire? It's kind of bugging me - suddenly I've become a huge pain wimp. Remember when I had those fillings done the Friday we were leaving to see Def Leppard? And the hygienist numbed the wrong side that he was working on so I got the novacaine shots in the non-numbed side...which promptly sent me almost into a shock-like state? I'd definitely say that this Mirena thing was about the same way. I had taken my four Motrin as directed, was doing my deep breathing, and I felt like the whole procedure was like a never-ending cycle of hell although I think it only lasted about five minutes. It hurt. I seemed to feel okay until I was about 10 minutes from the doc's office. Then it was just not pretty - nausea, cramping, bleeding, all the good stuff.

When I got to work on Tuesday, I felt pretty much like shit on a stick. I really didn't want to go to work, but since I'm using a sick day for other reasons on Friday I really didn't want to burn one up for something silly like, um, being sick. So I dragged my sorry, exhausted, nauseous, crampy ass on into work and as I was unpacking I found this Post-It note on my desk from everyone's favorite boss, EPOD. And what did the Post-It of Doom say?


Well, that just about sent me over the edge. For starters, it's not a good idea to mess with me when I'm sick. You have a 50/50 shot at either having your head forcibly removed, or having me burst into tears. So I was already not feeling great. Then, I had been working like a crazy person for the last three weeks on money stuff. That would be a huge cost analysis that required me to review about $20 million in invoices (and I'm talking invoices as small as $10), doing our monthly billings to the owners, putting together some closeout documentation for an owner, and a bunch of other stuff that I'd been tasked to do. I was exhausted and overworked, so I felt like expecting the filing to be completely caught up was like a huge slap in the face. Yes, it's part of my job, but I've always felt like the important stuff like MAKING MONEY comes before putting papers in alphabetical order. And in all honesty, I knew that what happened in all liklihood was that EPOD had come into my office Monday afternoon looking for something, couldn't find it, and the Post-It was his little temper tantrum. And, in all ironies, what he was looking for is probably on his desk...just like it always is.

I ended up stewing about it most of the day yesterday. Add to that these voice mails I keep getting from some stupid subcontractor who is looking for a check and is leaving death threats on my phone. Yeah, real smart, jackass. Finding out that half of the filing was from crap that Chachi had pulled out of the files and was too lazy to return - for which he received a severe tongue-lashing. And I could go on and on about all the stupid BS that happened yesterday.

Then I found out we had a guy get injured on my big job yesterday. He rolled a Bobcat, which is a feat in itself. Luckily for him, he only got a few scrapes and bruises - and we will have to endure an OSHA inspection because of it, but it's not a big thing. Another GC in town lost a guy last week who fell about 10 stories off of a scaffold. One of Joey's crews actually witnessed it (it wasn't one of their guys, thank God) and said you could hear the guy hitting the sidewalk. Construction is an ugly business, and most of the time we lose sight of how risky it is for the guys out in the field. It's dangerous as hell.

Suddenly, YOU NEED TO FILE didn't seem like such a big fucking deal. I had to get over myself. I can be a real brat sometimes.

Today was better. I have so many things to be happy about. I'm headed up to Baltimore to see the illustrious Maven and GMan - and will also be seeing Esmerelda and frequent commenter MPPS Mom at some point. I am so excited that every time I think about it, I pee a little bit.

And then tonight, I come home to this:

Apparently Cat Door brought another stupid tile contractor by our house, and while the guy was taking forever to measure stuff, he decided to take all my dishes out of the dish drainer and line them up on the counter. Obviously he doesn't have nearly enough work to do. I told him that it would've been really nice if he'd done something productive like put our laundry away or take out the trash instead of screwing with my plastic cups. Knowing him, though, he'd be too busy going through my underwear drawer to actually get any real work done, so maybe it's not a bad thing that he didn't "help." Well, he did let the dog out, and all I have to say is that he must be giving the dog some really great treats because all you have to do is mention his name and the dog practically convulses with pleasure.

So that's the story about yesterday. And today. Not really exciting, but I'm kind of intrigued by my inability to block EPOD out and not take it personally. I'm not normally like that, so I'm curious what it is about him that pushes my buttons in the worst way?


I am thankful for my friends - the ones that take the frantic freak-out phone calls, that email with me all day to keep me sane in EPODland, that take me out for a beer, and even the ones that line up my dishes on the counter. I couldn't make it without y'all.


Gretchen said...

Hope you're feeling better today.

Considering I had my IUD put in 8 weeks postpartum on #3, it wasn't that bad at all.

Have a great weekend - Wish I was there!

Tree said...

I am with Gretchen - the IUD was in about 10 wks postpartum. And mine was not a virgin cervix. I do think that has a lot to do with it.

I have to tell you this - we do not require our APM's or PM's or office engineers to file! That is what our admin / receptionist does and she is very good at it. She takes pride in it, not to mention everything in every job is uniform so that anybody could find it - even me. What a complete waste for you to do this. EPOD is annoying me!

I giggled out loud at your dishes lined up on your counters. Freaking hilarious.