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perzephone
It's interesting to me that since I've given up on fighting for this job, I'm a lot less stressed. So, they fucking fire me. I was looking for a job when I got this one. I don't enjoy my job, and I definitely don't enjoy the hours. More night audit jobs have been popping up lately, so I've been applying for them. I've pretty much managed to call in at least one day a week or had a half day a week since I got sick. This is unacceptable work behavior to me - even at the Excalibur I busted my ass to keep a decent attendance record, even though I played with my 'points' just like every other casino employee whose attendance is based on a points system. Yeah, we all do it & don't even pretend you don't. And I know all about those early-outs, too, so don't get all self-righteous around me... :P
Rob's started treatement for his 'roids. He's finally relented to getting the 'banding' procedure. It's exactly the same way that calves are gelded. A rubber band is placed around the swollen vein & the blood supply to it is cut off. Over the course of about 2 weeks, the hemorrhoid shrinks, separates from the rest of the intestine as the wall heals behind the rubber band, and the dead 'roid is passed out with a bowel movement. Yeah, I know, ewwww, fucking disgusting. He's pretty uncomfortable tonight. He did it to himself, though. Between his IBS & his love for sticking inanimate objects up his ass, he's done some irreparable damage to his colon. It gave me an excuse to call in sick, though. Last week was a four day week due to Veteran's Day, this week it's Rob's ass.
My ass is the one part of my body with which I don't have an intimate relationship. If something is wrong up there, I don't want to know. I will never get a colonoscopy. I don't even look into the toilet after I have a bowel movement unless it was searingly painful for no obvious reason. Luckily, my ass seems content with my lack of attention and doesn't act up. I know far too much about the behavior of my husband's ass. I often wonder to myself if other men have this obsession with their asses. I've been in one very short-lived relationship where the man I was with made it imperative that I know when he was taking a shit, and a good part of the reason I stopped seeing him was his open-bathroom-door-policy. It's also a big reason why I don't go for younger guys. Potty humor. I even got burned out on Southpark because of it.
Reached the end of my Destiny reading night before last. I didn't post it last night because I honestly didn't feel like walking down the hall to my room to get my journal. The last question was 'What is my Unified Self?' meaning what qualities of my life will emerge when my intellect, heart and body work together, and also what is my Inner Teacher.
I got Isa. Standstill, withdrawal and ice.
Yeah, that pretty much summed it all up for me.
Surrender, submission, inexorable processes against which I am powerless. It's also like an iceberg - not too much visible to the naked eye, but a lot going on under the surface. Stuff that can sink ships.
Rob's started treatement for his 'roids. He's finally relented to getting the 'banding' procedure. It's exactly the same way that calves are gelded. A rubber band is placed around the swollen vein & the blood supply to it is cut off. Over the course of about 2 weeks, the hemorrhoid shrinks, separates from the rest of the intestine as the wall heals behind the rubber band, and the dead 'roid is passed out with a bowel movement. Yeah, I know, ewwww, fucking disgusting. He's pretty uncomfortable tonight. He did it to himself, though. Between his IBS & his love for sticking inanimate objects up his ass, he's done some irreparable damage to his colon. It gave me an excuse to call in sick, though. Last week was a four day week due to Veteran's Day, this week it's Rob's ass.
My ass is the one part of my body with which I don't have an intimate relationship. If something is wrong up there, I don't want to know. I will never get a colonoscopy. I don't even look into the toilet after I have a bowel movement unless it was searingly painful for no obvious reason. Luckily, my ass seems content with my lack of attention and doesn't act up. I know far too much about the behavior of my husband's ass. I often wonder to myself if other men have this obsession with their asses. I've been in one very short-lived relationship where the man I was with made it imperative that I know when he was taking a shit, and a good part of the reason I stopped seeing him was his open-bathroom-door-policy. It's also a big reason why I don't go for younger guys. Potty humor. I even got burned out on Southpark because of it.
Reached the end of my Destiny reading night before last. I didn't post it last night because I honestly didn't feel like walking down the hall to my room to get my journal. The last question was 'What is my Unified Self?' meaning what qualities of my life will emerge when my intellect, heart and body work together, and also what is my Inner Teacher.
I got Isa. Standstill, withdrawal and ice.
Yeah, that pretty much summed it all up for me.
Surrender, submission, inexorable processes against which I am powerless. It's also like an iceberg - not too much visible to the naked eye, but a lot going on under the surface. Stuff that can sink ships.
