Reactionary

It’s now December and suddenly the time’s too short. I finished most of my Christmas shopping this weekend and most of it was uninspired. I used to spend days making The List of what I’d buy people. I’d window and cyber-shop, ask questions and hopefully wouldn’t send up red flags, I’d question one person about someone else, I’d ask someone to spy something out for me. I’ve done none of that this year and that’s a first.

Part of it may be the sudden, budget-busting news that I just got Friday that I may be able to go home for Christmas after all thanks to a senior member of the staff intervening in my behalf. Her present (that clearly I must buy) is one of the last things remaining for me to buy. But thanks to the suddenness to my being able to make the 2000 mile journey, I’ve had to buy a plane ticket far too late to get a good price. $850+ later, I’ve realised that I just spent the money I would have otherwise spent on presents, this comes after buying a new laptop plus all the Italian bills tht have just recently been paid off, AND a rent increase. So, I’ve been reduced to buying merely adequate presents due to the sudden time constraints and money-disappearance.

Next weekend, I have the company Christmas party which I didn’t want to attend but have been forced to at least make an appearance. I thought I’d have to buy something new, but I’ve found today that an old New York and Co. dress I have is actually perfect for an office gig, cute but not too showy and something I can live with Monday morning. That, along with some sky-high platform pumps I got from Zappos come together to make a great work-type of outfit. Now I just need some padding for the ball of my foot that will perfectly suffer if I must stand in the Charles David shoes for more than a few minutes.

The weekend after that, I’m on call for the whole of it. This is how evil this scheduler is. The weekend before Christmas, I’m on call (and will likely be needed considering how things have been) and the weekend of Christmas, I’m scheduled to work the 24th. So I can’t even get two days off like a real weekend, let alone a holiday weekend. I should send her a bomb for Christmas. I’m speechless with how evil that is. Maybe I should become an animist or something so my holidays would be respected. I guess as a Catholic, I’m not oppressed enough to get any respect.

Yes, that was said with bitterness. Deal with life.

But, the only senior staffer who seems to do any work around that place without actually being a service nurse has offered to take my shift and intervened with the manager to get me the one travel day off I need to make such a journey in a weekend. Why didn’t I go to the manager myself? I was given the impression that there was a rule that I coud not ask for any days off in December thanks to my seniority. There’s no such rule, but when someone who’s worked there longer than I’ve been alive tells you that, you’re not given the impression that you can protest or question. I thank the unnamed staff member who helped me from the bottom of my heart. That’s the real Christmas.

Posted on December 3rd, 2006 under Life •  Print •  Email • RSS 2.0 feed • Leave a response, or trackback