Weary

Standard

Work has been kicking my ass.  Lots of new hires and new positions and interviews and phone screens…I am still covering the front desk and let’s face it – it’s just not working.  At this point we are so behind in recruiting that I need to be able to give it not just a full time effort, but an overtime effort.  Currently I can only devote part time hours to it because of having to cover the window.  The person whom I am supposed to have already inherited the recruiting function from is still supporting me in it – and not happy.  This past Friday we were grating each other’s nerves and I cried in private.

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Tomorrow we are having our weekly staffing meeting with 2 of 3 managers – this should be very interesting as I did not have the time to actually prepare the update.  I’ll try not to stress it although that’s all I have done.  The current recruiter, myself and my boss will all meet tomorrow to discuss where we are in the process and hopefully come to a resolution of some sort.

I started my part time job – I am processing the applications of people with low income looking to receive free medications.  It’s an additional 20 hours a week on top of the 40 hours that I already work. 

Just before starting said part time job, I was involved in another accident with an elderly woman.  I was at a stop sign and moved forward to cross it and she slammed into me at full speed.  My car jumped the curb and let me fucking tell you boys and girls – time really does slow down when you are about to be in accident.  I remember reapeatedly hittng my breaks and desperately trying to control the car.  There were kids all over the place – I am so thankful I did not hurt any of them.  That’s all I would need on my head – the death or serious injury of a child.  I was a little disoriented getting out of the car and the old lady that hit me started crying.  The cops, fire department, the public works department (she bent a fire hydrant) and an ambulence were all called to the scene – had the power rangers and spiderman showed up I wouldn’t have been surprised.  She said the seatbelt hurt her and was removed via a stretcher and she had a neck brace on.  I kept asking if she was ok and I was assured that it was just a seatbelt injury. I got a very badly bruised left shoulder. (It’s better now).

I did not receive a ticket nor a summons.  But I am at fault because I had the stop sign and she had the right of way.  It’s just like that – that simple.  But if you ask me, she saw me cross the intersection and meant to hit the brake – instead she hit the gas. 

I had to call my boss that night at home and explain that I would be coming in late to pick up a rental because my car was towed.  (We’re due to get it back in a month). The next day I went to work with my shoulder in agony and with my nerves on edge.  At the end of that work day -it was off to my first day of my part time job.  It’s been two weeks since this all happened.

Should I mention that we just paid off the car and that the nice little old lady is now suing me through my car insurance?

Good times.  GOOD. FUCKING. TIMES.

Can you imagine how I felt calling my husband to tell him that his car (although he insists it’s our car) had just been towed? 

Can I tell you I just love this man?  I was on the phone freaking out about the car and he keeps interrupting me to ask: “Are you ok?…J, nevermind the car! – ARE YOU OK?…you’re ok?…Well then, fuck the car!”

I love this man. 

I also have a promegranate martini chilling and waiting for me.  I love them too.

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About Jessica Emilia

Mother, wife, grief survivor, dancer, yogi, feminine, baker, cook, lover, fighter, perfectly imperfect, optimistic, pessimistic, reader, writer, funny, sarcastic, compassionate, emphatic, sympatheric, HR Pro, anxious, confident, supernatural, hocus-pocus, friend, daughter and momma again...

3 responses »

  1. Oh honey! I’m so sorry. The car and work are not so important– YOU ARE! I’m so glad you’re okay, but I hate that you even have to deal with this. Drink another martini. I promise it’ll help!

  2. oh good God! You’ve had a hell of a time. But at least you’re ok – banged and bruised and stressed, but alive. And that far outweighs the alternative.

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