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SO…. I believe I left the story of my life with … uncertainty and frustration about my job, my hopefully-significant other, and life in general. oh. and pre-birthday blahs. PBDB (not of course, having *anything* to do with PMS, which is more or less invented by drug companies, I’m convinced.)
so I finally had a conversation with my boss on thursday – she won’t know if the company I work for will have the money to hire me for another year until OCTOBER. my job term ends in August. so that would be the month of september without income. IF I wanted to work there again. IF they could get the money, etc etc. I think that she was just finally exhausted enough to tell me the truth. not like she’s not been particularly honest with me in the past – but I think she was *just. tired. enough.* to "let it all out," if you will. or at least most of it. or some of it. this is a nonprofit organization. so you know… some of it was left in. influenced, of course, by Classic-Protestant-Passive-Agressive-BullShit (or C-PABS as I called it in seminary…)
I ramble. so. she could have told me this perhaps, 1-2 months ago. then I would have been in a much better place about next year – but emotionally. it would have given a chance to fiercely dismiss the angsty "oh no! actually, it IS all about me!" kinds of feelings. because if they don’t have the money, they don’t have the money: happens all the time in non-profits.
So in fact, it was NOT about me, my job performance, my attention to detail (or lack thereof) and/or ME. My personality has kind of taken a beating in this job: my boss is reserved – except when she’s kind of "braindead" (her own term) and then she kinda gets punchy and high-squeaky-pitched. I know. it’s strange. anyway.
it’s a different generation – her generation was more or less expected to go to college, get married, have kids. MAYBE have a career "on the side." I think she’s about the same age as my mother…
I have a completely different set of options facing me because I was born 30 years later… and there were strong, brave women who fought for their rights (without knowing me, but including me all the same) and I have a completely different life trajectory, personality… and that’s fine. but how it has played out in our workplace has been tension-filled and fraught with feh.
on a different note: things with sammy were going well up until about yesterday.
my friend amy came in from florida on thursday.
I think sammy more or less hates her.
I don’t actually know: is it the unwritten dynamic: "I’M her friend you’re not/I’ve been her friend for years and years/I’ve known her longer therefore I must approve of you and if I don’t approve of you then anna has to give you the boot?"
has this happened to anyone else??? help?
I have known amy for half my life. we met when we were both 16 at the Institutue for the Arts summer academy between sophomore year and junior year. maybe it was between junior year and senior year. say, 1988. just cause we’ve been friends for almost 20 years and we’ve had to WORK occasionally to keep our friendship alive and by work I mean WORK. so… what the hell?
here’s the skinny about me:
I’m LOUD. I have a huge voice; I’m not afriad to use it. I have a HUGE laugh. I have ten years of therapy under my belt and I’m not afraid ot use them. I am very concerned about social justice – if there’s some shit happening in a conversation, I will say, (ummm….. really? or SERIOUSLY? or…. ummm… you know that’s not okay right.) in the most loving way I can imagine.
oh. and I was sexually abused by the neighborhood babysitter when I was about 5 or 6 – and when my brother tried to write about it using my REAL NAME? I called the publisher and said, "hi! I odn’t give my consent for this story to be published… he can’t use my name, etc etc." so my middle brother is mad at me.
here’s the skinny on amy:
She’s LOUD. Her voice would be a near-match for mine in a shouting match (not that we’ve ever had one); she has a delightful giggle. she also has abotu ten years of therapy under her belt and she’s not afraid ot use them. she is married. (it took me a few years to warm up to her husband, but we got along okay now. hopefully I wasn’t an absolute JERK about the warming up phase.)
her uncle tried to rape her when she was about 16 but she fought him off.
amy and I get along REALLY well. we see eye to eye on a lot of things; we support each other; we listen to each other. in short, she is muh girlfriend. my sister (non-biological) and I love her fiercely.
here’s the skinny on sam:
he’s QUIET. he doesn’t talk very loud. he (I think) rather holds his emotions in and then processes them by himself. I think he’s afraid of hurting people with his anger. his father is a minister, and french (like from FRANCE, french, not like french mustard or something) his mother is american and I can’t remember right now what her career is. his father is a minister – sam grew up IN PARIS.
we had a conversation like this:
Sam: you grew up in a house!
Anna: yeah, umm… yes? and you?
Sam: I grew up in an apartment.
Anna: but yeah – you grew up IN PARIS. you totally win.
Sam: yeah, I suppose.
Sam likes cats and thinks my mother’s dog (australian shepherd) is too loud. I think Sam’s father might have been controlling or abusive cause Sam apologizes a lot. and he gets really uncomfortable with louder voices…
Sam and I ususally swim along fine.
I think one of several things is happening:
amy is pulling her weight. (that whole friend tihng above)
sam is baffled that I could be friends with someone so clearly unlike him (or it might be an american thing – like – he finds us rude, cause he grew up in a different culture…)