Day 54 - Transitions and changes

I stepped down from 2nd stage patches of 14 mg to the 7 mg base, and now I know what I'm going to have to expect when I get off the patches altogether.

My metabolism kicked in high again, the first couple of days its like I'm 17 years old again, eating just about every half hour. I can devour a twelve inch loaded sub with double meat thats about six inches round in just under five minutes, then look at the desserts, then look back at the other subs again. I do realize that it's just my body adjusting to the lower levels from the patch, but my wife is beginning to worry. Oh yeah, and I know there is going to be a bunch of recovering non-smokers who are going to hate me.

I haven't gained a pound. If anything, I've lost a little bit of weight.

For those who have met me in person, know that I am not in exactly pumped up fashion. There is not much there for me to loose, and when I do notice, I wonder where the hell it came off of.

Maybe it has to do with the hunger suppressants inherent in cigarettes. Doctors in the 50's used to prescribe cigarettes to women as a method of diet control. Nicotine does cause a body to emit an enzyme that tells it 'done and full, no more food, thanks'. So with the lower levels, it just feels like I'm hungrier, wanting more to devour. Maybe it has something to do with the change of season. I notice now that people around me are snacking more themselves... busy little squirrels stuffing their faces with french fries and other potato snacks. Getting ready to put that little extra fat on for the winter season, survival of the species and all.

And with that new appetite and metabolism, comes lower blood sugar levels. I thought I was going to fall off of my office chair today, then I realized, it was 2:00 and I had not ate lunch. Not by my decision, there was 5 high priority tickets to take care of. So, I worked through them head spinning and all, then devoured my sandwiches in about 4 to 7 bites. Felt a lot better after that.

First couple of days on the patch, I also had headaches as well. Lack of food causing that? Possibly. Could also be all of those lovely cell receptors getting ready to shut down to 'non-smoking' levels. I'm definitely going to have to stock up on migraine medication once I am off the patches.

My body is not built for heavy labor... lower back problems, inherent bowel problems, hernias run in the family... or as I like to call it 'My body is built for making love, not war.' I do know though that after 3 weeks on the last patch cycle my body stabilized out and I was eating normally.

Dreams are still vivid and bizarre. Great source of stories, in one of them, I'm a ghost hunter. Funny part is, I'm the ghost during prohibition years, running through moonshine breweries and hunting some X-Files type monster. I'll throw the idea into the story jar, not enough backstory to flesh out a full short story, and just flimsy enough to get thrown out anyways.

And then, there is the other things... more realizations for my recovery to 'normal-hood'.

I am an addict, unlike some though, my choice drug is cigarettes. I can have a drink, and set it aside, then not have a single drop for months even years. Kurt Cobain smoked and did heroin, made him less of a musician? Thought he butchered Bowie on the unplugged album, and I you can hear him slurring, think he just got off a heroin nod before recording. I can still do my job even though I have not had one cigarette in 54 days.

I've read in medical journals that nicotine is a harder drug to quit than heroin. And I can believe it, it's a comfortable hazy cloak of lies and deception, it's built on false hopes and a subtle crutch. It infiltrates your being, and replaces your cells reactions... to everything. The pleasure response which is built into our DNA gets turned off, as the nicotine totally overrides it, those parts of your cells shut down, they aren't needed. And that psychologically you begin to replace the normal parts of pleasure that your body can produce, with the nicotine happily soaking your cells. You are brainwashing your responses on a soulful and cellular level.

It is a hazy cloak of lies and deception, it also comes with a lovely blindfold of self denial. You stitch it together with lost moments of padding down your pockets for a lighter, feeling a bit of annoyance when you don't have one with you. The voyeuristic glances to behind the counter, seeing if they have 'your' brand. The cloth of self assured thoughts, 'It helps me relax', 'It gives me time to think', and 'I like it'. It wraps around you, permeates you, until it controls your behavior. Look at it this way, a dried plant leaf soaked in chemicals, cut up and put into a paper tube is going to determine how you are going to spend five minutes of your life. I'd rather be looking at something beautiful for those five minutes.

Another part of my recovery is that I'm speaking the truth more... maybe that's from trying to dump all the self-lies that I was feeding myself while I was smoking. I know people who are in their 90's who smoke, not one bit of cancer... I can just have one more, I can afford to quit later... they don't have any definitive proof that smoking causes cancer... I can't smoke in public, but millions of cars out there each day are pumping out more toxins in the air than my single cigarette... there was only one statement that subconsciously I was not lying to myself in the last couple of months before my quit started.

I don't like to smoke.

It got to the point, where I recognized that I was feeding the habit and my bodies response to it. I became annoyed because the cig was overruling what I wanted to do. I had to smoke before I could go do those other things.

I began hating the smoking process, but the addiction told me that it was necessary.

So I stopped smoking and used the patch. At that time, it was just 'okay, this is just another quit.' and I'll be back smoking within a month or so... but now, if I truly want to become more than an addict, I'll have to do more.

This week I couldn't stand to be at my desk at first coffee break, so I put jacket and Tilley hat on, and went outside. With all the smokers. I made sure I was not in their path of smoke, as I now can't stand the smell and was joking around with them. Sun was good, was actually warm for once, I wasn't working, it's the middle of the week, all is good... then I caught my hand.

It was reaching into my jacket for my cigarette pack.

I physically was going through the motions.

I almost smacked my hand when I stopped, but I did the smart thing, I took my mind off of actually doing the physical motion and analyzed what the hell I was doing. I came to the realization that by proxy I wanted to be part of the group. All the other apes were throwing rocks, so I went and was going to throw one too. Is wanting to be part of a group more important than my own health? Hell no. I'll try again later and be social with them later on.

This current stage of my quit is just a transition and change, with the onset of fall, there comes a lot of that reflected all around me. The oranges, yellows and browns of the leaves. Neighborhood children who were toddling around in cartoon clad clothing are now sporting acne and awkward prepubescent bodies. I notice there is more grey hair at my temples, there is more lines around my wife's eyes.

It's all about change, water becomes stagnant and not healthy if it does not flow. If I do not take the water of my own life and flow, I will become like a pool of standing water. In order to make the transition from smoker to non-smoker to ex smoker to 'nothing related to smoker or non-smoker', I must change.

This is my last quit, and I'm still here,
Pike

I have not smoked in one month, three weeks, one day, 13 hours, 18 minutes and 7 seconds.
I have not smoked 642 cigarettes, saving $282.77.
I have got an additional 2 days, 5 hours, 30 minutes of my life saved.

Musing thoughts for a Friday

Random Thought #1 - Pants is singular. To have more than one pair, it's still called pants, not pantii, or pantses. When referring to the legs, it's pant leg. When referring to pockets, it's pants pockets. There is no reference or phrase to describe the zipper, it's not the pants zipper, it's the zipper or fly. Even when they are buttons, it's a button fly. Perhaps I should be wearing a kilt.You know what's worn under a kilt? Nothing.

Nothings worn, it's all in good working condition.



Random Thought #2 - I've had a song stuck in my head for the past couple of days. In my head, I hear ' One for the ro-oh-oh-oad.' So that's what I've been looking for... do you know how many songs have that in their lyrics? I knew it was from the 70's but couldn't put my finger on it, sounded so generically 70's that no one part of what I had stuck in my head was identifying the artist. So, do a search with it in for chorus... sure enough.... Boz Scaggs - Lido Shuffle.

Lido, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh....He said, "one more job oughta get it""One last shot, we quit it""One more for the road"

Is this another sign of getting older? Definitely have to regularly taking my gingko biloba. My brain maybe a gun, and my words are bullets, but it really doesn't help if the gun gets rusty.


Random Thought #3 - I miss drive in theaters.


Random Thought #4 - Found this on a site, Billy Connoly (master humorist) had this handed to him as well, I've altered it a bit, but one day this will be on my business card. I may change the header in my blog to read the following.
Seeker Of The Peace. Part Time Chandelier Cleaner. A Legend In His Own Time. Oppressor Of Champions. Soldier of Fortune. World Traveller. All Round Good Guy. Progressive Time Traveller. International Lover. Casual Hero. Philosopher. Wars Fought, Bears Wrestled, Equations Solved, Virgins Enlightened, Revolutions Quelled, Tigers Castrated, Orgies Organized, Bars Quaffed Dry, Governments Overrun, Test Rockets Flown, Wives Tamed. Part time member of the Liquitarian Society of Saskatoon. (For proof of any of the listed abilities, please send 10 dollars to my paypal account, you may not get the proof, but I could use the money.) Life is a waste of time.
Time is a waste of life.
Get wasted all the time.
And you'll have the time of your life.


Random Thought #5 - Computer social networking... The AS3 network of recovering non-smokers have helped me out a lot, I probably would still be smoking if it wasn't for the fact that they were there. But somehow I got sucked into facebook, found a whole lot of people I have drifted away from. Not on purpose, but it does happen regardless of how much you put ties down. Families drift apart, friends have to move away, intrests change. Scariest part is... I'm seeing people now from my hometown, that I remember were in Kindergarten. Yep, another liver spot just burst out from the back of my hands, and another hair just went grey. How long will facebook last? I don't know, seems that everyone was MySpace'ing it a year ago. Another fad? Maybe... it might end up becoming like ICQ, or Powwow. I miss using Powwow, it was better than ICQ as you could send people sound files, and when you played them on your computer, it would play on theirs. Also had a smaller footprint for memory consumption.Hopefully it will stick around, but in the meantime, I'm up there. And for those people who are wondering were I am...

I'm still here,
Pike

My smober meter reads... One month, two weeks, one day, 6 hours, 12 minutes and 7 seconds. 555 cigarettes not smoked, saving $266.45. Life saved: 1 day, 22 hours, 15 minutes.

Strange things to do on a Tuesday night...

Removing about a pound of lint from the clothes dryer and exhaust hose.

Living in a condo, does not allow for much space. The apartment that myself, wife and kidlet are in, doesn't have a laundry room, so much as... laundry closet. Standard sized dryer and washer have about an away from each other and another 2 inches away from the walls. So in order for me to get to the back of the dryer, I have to pull the dryer out of it's spot, thus dividing the laundry closet into quarters. I have to crawl across the top of the washer, then contort my body so I don't slam my head and/or scrape the top two layers of skin off my face or chest. If I were Jackie Chan, I could do a forward diving flip and land neatly into that spot.

Once I'm back there, it's one of those kind of jobs once you start it, you want to finish it. So got the tools out, and I'm elbow deep into the dryer, like some obscene proctologist digging for remnants of washings past. Hmm... look at the color of that... this feels a little sticky, could that be the final bit of the gobstopper.... This seems to be containing some small fragment of paper, is there a secret code, or perhaps this small blob of ink indicates something on a to do list... like remove lint from the dryer.

So after I got it all out, and coordinated tool retrieval with wife, I managed to vacuum out a small nerf sized ball of lint from the exhaust port.

So with all that lint.... what the hell are my clothes made of? Do the manufacturers include a micro-miniature 'lint' layer that slowly erodes away and produces lint. Does this layer secretely transmit information about what you watch on television to major league baseball? Did that one infamous missing grey sock reach critical mass and explode, providing a constant rate of fibers? Or....checking that small piece of paper, yeah, this is one of those jobs that I've been putting off for a while.

Who knows what lint lies within the hearts of dryers... only the maytag man knows.

I'm still here,
Pike

Musing thoughts

In 40 years... there is going to be a bunch of old ladies with tattoos and nipple rings, listening to Britney Spears on the Golden Oldies radio station... for some reason this makes me giggle and be disturbed at the same time.

Wonder how they are going to mosh pit at the seniors home.

I'm still here,
Pearce

I'm forgetting something...

Daily routines keep a person sane, they give a sense of purpose and direction, it prepares them for the achievements of the day. Little rituals that the high tech tribes prepare for... making sure their mp3 players have a new mix of songs. The suits making sure their blackberries are charged up, and the creases in their pants ready to cut 2 inch glass.. Soccer moms e-mailing the latest recipes to the list of other parents.

The morning rituals can make or break a day, toast burns, alarm clock doesn't go off, phone calls from relatives who think you have the time to chat. They all add up to a bad start to a day. My mornings usually involved me evolving from caveman...grunting and pointing towards the bathroom, cringing and groaning when the water temperature would change from the adjacent neighbours deciding to flush the toilet. Coffee in me, do the morning quick internet browsing to check on the weather forecast, and do the checklist.

My mother calls these the 'Did I's'.

Did I turn the stove off, did I get the drain plug out of the sink, did I start the washer and dryer, did I make sure that the salad dressing get put back into the fridge after getting lunch ready... etc, ad naseaum. I have my wallet, cell phone, mp3 player for those long quiet afternoons at work, lunch packed up, my cheerios for that morning breakfast, backpack has novel in case I have to take the bus home, and my hat. Testicles, spectacles, wallet and watch. Yep, it looks like I'm ready for the day.

When I stopped smoking over a month ago, my habits had to change, those rituals were now disrupted. The weight of my jacket changed, there was no long that comfortable mass that balanced. I tried putting my cell phone in place of where I had my cigarettes, it still feels weird. I did contemplate very briefly about using my old cigarette tin for a portable mp3 player... I filed that thought under not healthy, as having any paraphernalia around would not help my recovery. I have a bag of lighters that keep growing in size. The physical hand to mouth gesture has been replaced, I straighten out my moustache and goatee.

For those of you non-smokers who have never touched a single cigarette, it's exactly like forgetting to put on your watch.

You feel naked.

The physical presence of the things that get us through the day are soothing. It makes sure your world is all in the right place and in order. When those things are removed, it's like an old friend suddenly dying on you. It jars your routines, your rituals, that what was unshakable has broken off and lost. Your perception of the world has been changed, and not by your own decision to change things. And in a way when those small things are lost, you must mourn them in your own ways. And I've never been good with mourning, I prefer to celebrate.

It's a better way to live.

And now with that pack of cigarettes no longer in my jacket, my world has changed. By my own decision to do so. Now I have to remind myself that 'No, I have everything. All is good in the world.' Even though I have reminded myself that I have everything, it still feels like I am forgetting something. And there is a brain fog that comes along with not-smoking, my concentration and focus levels are about the equivalent of a hyperactive 4 year old hopped up on pixie sticks and coca-cola. So I have to push through that fog and remind myself...

All is good in the world of me.

No matter what though, it follows me around all day long, that naked feeling, that I'm forgetting something... did I lock the door at home... did I then it occurs to me.


I'm not wearing any pants.



I'm still here,
Pike


P.S. All of the above is true, except for the pants. Although at one of my former jobs,
we did have a sign above our work bench that read... PANTS ARE NOT AN
OPTION.

My Life as a Geek

This past weekend, I went to an auction sale... you know with an actual auctioneer? This ain't your papa's eBay, you've got to bid fast and smart, as well as keeping a mental note on what you've brought for money. It was a mixed bag of emotions for me, a local internet/gaming cafe had shut it's doors. First there was some excitement as I was hoping to pick up one of their machines, I still have plans for a media center computer. And then again, there was some sadness, it's not always good to see a small business fold up. But on the first week they opened, I gave myself a private bet, they would only be open for 1 year. Well, they were open for 2
years. I recognized several faces from the tech crowd in town, familiar nods and waves, I played against them in LAN tournaments or chatted with them about what was their latest escapades with customers. I picked up a couple of copies of Guild Wars for 10 bucks each, as well as a sweet high back leather office chair for 55 bucks. As for the computers, way out of my price range with what I had set aside. I know I mentioned this in an earlier post, but hindsight is 20/20. The last time I went to an actual auction, I was 10 years old, having fun, not realizing that a farmer was selling his life and work away... not his work, his passion. Anyone who can farm for 30 years and not make a profit any year truly does love what he does.

I first got into how computers work when I was 13, back in school there was the Apple II units. The internet was just a dream concept, as bulliten board systems were still the current standard. I worked on 8088 machine, with 2 five and quarter drives, no hard drive, monochrome CGA video... playing Rogue and other Sierra classics like Space Quest, Police Quest, Leisure Suit Larry. Some of you now are smiling and nodding. Take it several years later, after my stint as a radio announcer (future blog), I got back into computers, doing repairs. I picked up on the tips and tricks of working in DOS, and extended my skills, hacking out FAT tables, fixing Windows 95 on Cyrix processor machines. Step it up a few later years, I became an instructor at a now defunct private computer college. Eager minds wanting to know the secrets from one of the original geeks. I gained my MCSE during that time, only to have the certification expire three months after I completed them. I didn't bother going to the next stage up, as I knew that I couldn't afford it. And any hands on experience I would gain with the new operating system would far outweigh any online test or piece of paper. Computers and video games, one part of my geek life.

Also this weekend, I found a couple of trade paperbacks of Philip K. Dick that have managed to elude my book hunting skills for a couple of years now. I am giddy and have gotten stares in the book store from my squeals when a new John Varley novel comes out. I smile with a contented irish heart for any of Neil Gaiman's works. Jim Butcher's Dresden files is a welcome breath of fresh air and in my opinion is some of the best detective noir out there today... with a healthy dose of magic. Neil Stephenson amazes me with the level of precision and the places his stories push my imagination. Heinlein brings me a bit of nostalgia, read his entire works when I was a teen. Spider Robinson is the only one who can come close to his style of writing. Robert J. Sawyer is one of the best authors out there, bringing back the golden age concepts of sci-fi, what new technology affects todays society. Decent writer? You bet, he has won the Hugo, the Nebula, and the Campbell Memorial award. Just amazing. I do love to read, and get in on average about 500 pages per week. If I miss out on a week, I'll double or triple it up the next week. This is definitely my heroin, and will be harder to give up, (if I ever do) than smoking.

Roleplaying... okay, for some of you, get your minds out of the gutter... I have my 20 sided dice and my wife does not have a french maid outfit...unfortunately. RP'ing is a lot of fun with the right crowd, as relaxing as a good chat session with a bunch of friends over coffee. For an escape from current reality, it's the mental refresher for me. For the old school RP's, Forgotten Realms is a good coming home feel to it. For those of you who want to start out, I've been told Deadlands has been very good, anyone who can learn basic poker can play. Haven't tried it out myself, but it sounds like a lot of fun. Some people say the amount of money put into such games is not worth it. You tell me how much value a smile or a hearty laugh in good company is, and then we can debate about the money.

The small screen, well mine is small. How many guys do you know that would freely admit that? I enjoy a good series, and internally I breathed a sigh of relief once the entire seasons of a show began to come out on DVD. One day I will have a massive screen television with a home theater system, so I can enjoy all of my series I've got on DVD. If I can figure out in the first five minutes what is going to happen, I know the writers have not done their job. My wife hates it when I figure out what's going to happen. Blame it on reading since I was 4 years old, but there are only so many storylines to fall back on. I'll give a new series maybe one or two episodes, and if it doesn't entertain me, I'll go find another series. Fickle? Nope, I just expect a series to follow through what the ad executives hype it up to be. Otherwise, is it false advertising? Wouldn't it be nice to get a refund for really bad television shows? Eye for an eye so to speak would bring television executives sitting through mindless home movies of relatives that have long passed.

I was sceptical at first at Buffy the television series, then after watching the first two episodes, I was hooked. Branded as a Joss Whedon fan, I still get pissed off thinking about Firefly and Fox cancelling the series. Battlestar Galactica is amazing, and I've recommended it to many people who poo-poo'ed any science fiction. They love it, and it brings me a smile when I know they are getting the same kind of joy I've found in it. Heroes is fantastic as well, it's not all about the tights, it's about the people and how they are dealing with what is happening with them. Good guys and bad guys aren't exactly precisely defined by their underwear on the outside
and top hats with long curly moustaches. And if you don't like Doctor Who, well that's okay, because I don't like broccoli.

Movies are a whole other ball of wax that I can get into, will save that for a future blog. Other than that, Kurosawa and Samurai films can talk me into just about anything. Just about.

I love a good story, whether I'm playing it on the computer, tabletop, on the small screen, and on the big screen. Does that make me a geek? I hope so, as the stories we tell and listen to transcend time. I'm just happy to experience them.

I'm still here,
Pike

400

I check my meter, then adjust it, as it's not quite right. Something must be wrong with it. I'm looking at the number of cigarettes I would have had... if I still smoked.

400.

That's 16 packs, easy to imagine. But imagine, 400 cigarettes... can you? Or does it become a very large smokey haze? (I don't pardon puns, I send them to the electric chair.)

Unreal. Work this week was easier on me, think I'm recovering a bit better. Must take the time to go book a physical with doctor, and see what else can be done about my hemmoroid problem. I got another co-worker asking... heh, I told him. I got my point across when I told him he didn't want to know, he wanted to know.

I told him.

He said he would never be able to look at me the same way. Me and my descriptions and truth, ain't I a stinker?

So, today... dun dun dun!!! One month, two days. I got up early today, and it payed off, for once. Had breakfast with the family, then I was off to the auction. Left the wife and kid at the in-laws, and I had the car for the day. Yeehaw!

A local shopping mall had a business not renew their lease. It was like an internet cafe, only for gaming. When it first opened up, I figured it wouldn't last a year. Well, it lasted two. Good for them. At the auction site (large warehouse) there was all these church pews... uh oh. I managed to stick it out for several hours. Picked up 2 copies of Guild Wars for 10 bucks each, and a sweet leather highback office chair for 55 bucks. I was tempted to get in on the computers, but they were going way too high... I could have built for half the price they were going at.

Followed that up with a stop at Howies Barber shop, (no more half mullet for me) and a quick browse through 8th Street Comics and Books, got me home. (And if you are anywhere in Western Canada, 8th Street comics and books is the best place to get your comic book needs.)

Decided to pop into the AS3 chat, here's an excerpt, Marvin and I were talking about real estate out east as opposed to where I am.

[Marvin] we walked out of a house in minutes because the owner was there smoking when we walked in ... i was just quit at the time
[Marvin] they lost that sale
[Pike] That would do it. Then again, the smoker wouldn't of understood.
[Marvin] no --
[Marvin] but to remove the stench is a lot of work
[Marvin] glad i quit
[Pike] So am I. What the hell is it with the nicotine, it blinds people from the truth?
[Marvin] it's the ultimate addiction
[Pike] I don't think the addiction has to do with it.
[Marvin] there's no penalty except early death
[Marvin] unlike boozing it
[Pike] :-)
[Marvin] it's a HUGE psychological addiction -- absolutely -- it takes 3 days for the nicotine to leave but weeks for the 'Rebraining' to happen
[Marvin] eat ... uh ... uh ... sigh ... OK ... not going to smoke ... sigh
[Marvin] it's an artificial reward system too
[Marvin] reward yourself with a smoke ... cough!
[Pike] Okay, I dig that. Not during the recovery phase, during while a smoker is smoking. Here's a theory... lowered oxygen levels in blood, pain receptors are turned down way low, your cells are 'drunk', and the perspective gets skewed to look through it.
[Pike] A person in a way gets to be emotionally blind to what is going on around them.
[Marvin] true ... but then you realize you're killing yourself too
[Pike] The smoker doesn't come to this realization unless they want to.
[Marvin] so the 'Pleasure' gets messed up
[Marvin ] true
[Pike] Exactly, the 'pleasure' ends up becoming ignorance.
[Marvin] or denial
[Marvin] never underestimate the power of denial
[Pike] Heh. Denial is just a highly defensive state of ignorance.
[Marvin] George Bush swears by it
[Marvin] he's it's poster child

I don't deny it, I am an addict.

400 cigarettes not smoked

This is madness. This ain't sparta.

This is my last quit and I'm still here,
Pike

P.S. This guys writing is unreal, and as for descriptions, I highly recommend it for the following people.
Doctors
Oncologists
Radiation tech's
Ex-smokers
Smokers
Someone who's life has been affected by cancer, or know someone.

One day I wish I can write as well as he does. Start from his earliest entry, and make sure your heart strings are doubly reinforced.
http://raw-elemental.com

Another quart of oil...

Recently someone posted up, basically an advertisement for this site in the stop smoking newsgroup I'm in. It refers back to http://depressionhelp4u.com/kit.php

Which includes a kit, for you to get if you have mild, medium, or severe depression. As well with a reduced price... like any pessimistic depressive wouldn't see through the site anyways.

Frankly speaking... if you are suffering from any types of depression, go see a doctor.

Allright, so I'm a big old bastard... I'm definitely going to hell for this one.... got a spot in the lava right next to the water cooler that is just out of reaching distance... *cracks knuckles*




"Allright kids, settle down, we've got a lot of work today...."

"What are we building?"

"Okay, everyone have their depression kits?" Looks about the room. "Okay, if you forgot your melancholy, just buddy up and share. Today class, we are going to build..." Turns to the blackboard, white chalk against the green background, the letters D Y S T H M I A. "This is not a form of dyslexic asthma, no it's a very mild form of depression."

"Can we use Morrisey's music to help build this?"

"It's one of the prime ingredients Billy. I've also have Sade compact disks for those who want to build dysthmia for someone who just got out of a long term relationship. Oh yes, and I do have some extra little pegs so the shelves fit right, always seem to loose those."

"Sir?"

"Yes Gertrude?"

"It's Bob sir, my older brother told me that his girlfriend is bi-polar-"

"That means she prefers having sex with both male and female polar bears, now if you look at this chart..."

Communication breakdown - NSFW

Well, after spending a week on my stomach and on my side on the couch (better for me that way with the recovery after surgery) I'm not in too much better shape this week. Monday, got caught up from work, as those who were assigned to do my work did not. One hour into my shift, I got a call from the higher ups to see if I could do some configurations for units that were shipping out Friday. Average time to do a unit, 35 minutes. How many are to be shipped out Friday? 180. I'm not that good at math, but even that doesn't add up. So, waited around till 'guy shows up', did some more of my own work, got rescheduled for training on tuesday.

Tuesday, almost didn't make it till noon, but then rememberd, 'pain killers'! Yes! Coffeed up, had my breakfast on my first break, then popped the pain killers. So I tried to keep myself busy doing little 5 minute jobs, as anything really involved would only be interrupted 'when the guy were to show up.' End of the day, he shows up, goes through one of the configurations, and I'm informed that I'm to do the work on some of the units at the main office building.

Okay, So I'll come by in the morning.

No, I was to wait, until a workstation was prepped for me.

Wednesday 2:00, three hours left in the work day, I get a call. 'Where are you?' I then had to review THEIR instructions that they gave me,and remind them that THEY were going to call me when it was ready for me to go over. As they were getting ansy at the phone calls I made
earlier in the morning...

Apparently I was to sit there and watch the IT guy configure the workstation, like I haven't seen that before. Wednesday just before my shift is ending, phone call from my supervisor, apparently they still need the 180 done up for friday.

GAAAHHHHH!!!!!

So, yesterday it was overtime, with people asking me about the pillows I'm sitting on. I tell them (including the VP of the company) that they really didn't want to know. If they inquired again, I asked them if they were squeamish, could handle CSI and the reality show operations of live open bodies cut open. If they said yes, I told them, that they still don't want to know.

Here's the fun part kids, pay attention now, as the Pike will explain.

I went into great detail about how painful the surgery was, and what I had to go through. High definition does not come close to the words I was using. There was comparisons to the sizes of golfballs and things removed from them the size of blueberries. I also described the facial
expressions of the nurse. And for a nice touch, I sprinkled in the the coppery smell of blood, and the immediate blanket of intestinal gases, juices, and solids.

And that's the Disney version folks.

Needless to say, I managed to make a couple of people white in the face, and I knew when to ask them again...

"Do you really want to know what exactly happened?"

When the words no came out of their mouth, I then told them, to trust me when I tell them these things.

I was a real asshole and kept on going with the description. Why? If I cannot be taken for my word, I will tell them, in great gory detail. When I tell them these things, it's to hammer down the point that I am good to my word. Anyone who dares defy, challenge, or doubt my word
had better have a damn good reason why. This also comes from some people who are in charge of my paycheck. Will I have a job next week?

I don't care.

I honestly don't care.

The work that I usually do, is not considered to be a team task, therefore not as important. The words 'quality service and products' is in our mission statement, and needless to say, since my little chunk of service gets whittled down or pushed off to the side... I get to talk to pissed off customers. I get to deal with them, not the sales people that sold them the units, and my managers are far too busy dealing with new sales to deal with them.

Fade to this afternoon, one of the coordinators for the sale informed me that we wouldn't make it for month end... something that we agreed on Tuesday, and that they reviewed it with my supervisor. Five minutes later, I get a phone call

Why didn't we get all 180 done up?

I then reviewed for them, when I was informed (Monday morning), when I got the training (tuesday afternoon, last thing before workday end), I then reviewed my instructions with the other supervisor about the workstation, and how much overtime I had done thursday to get as many of the units done as possible.

And then came the words, 180 units still not done? I told them that they should coordinate with the other supervisors to ensure that the initial setup for these situations goes a lot faster and smoother. I also advised them that they should work on their communication skills. I also told them that the 35 minute configuration time is not reliable as network traffic plays a very big role on how quickly the updates get done. I finished off the day, still going full out trying to get
as many of these things done as possible.

Tuesday should prove interesting, as effectively, no one has been covering my responsibilities for 2 weeks. My supervisors kept saying 'your work is driving us nuts, you need to come back'.... I didn't remind them that they were the ones who moved me over to configuration.

Communication, is what it all comes down to. I have tried nice, I have tried pleasant. I have tried indifferent, I have tried ranting. I have put it in writing, I have e-mailed, I have chatted. I want to grab them by the shoulders, then repeatedly shake them until they start recognizing the phrases that come out of my mouth. Now, with my communication mode in full asshole mode, you think they will finally listen to what I have to say? Probably not.

Oh yeah, and one more thing. New research from my doctor... Stress is apparently a factor in my health condition.

Did I want a cigarette?

No.

I wanted all of the cigarettes.

So I grabbed my water bottle, hobbled out of my chair, and took an impromptu break fifteen minutes before the end of my shift. I managed to find some more pain killers, spent ten minutes watching clouds outside, then went back in gathered my stuff up and was preparing to really leave for the day... when my temp supervisor asked where I was, I showed him my patch ... it was on my bicep. Get your minds out of the gutters... you'll be able to surf for your porn after getting to the end of the rant here...

Anyways, he fully understood. But I will remind you all, a half second slight nod does not show a difference in my stress levels or paycheck amount.

I've brought up these situations and explained to the one manager of mine that fully understood. Has anything been done about these things? It's been a year and a half, no changes. So am I going to quit work right away? Nope, still gotta eat, keep a roof over head, pay for the modern equivalent of Tiger Beat for my 12 year old daughter... and in the meantime, I am going to look for another job while maintaining the current one.

Is it going to get easier? Hell yes. Part of my quit strategy, will be the day I drop off my 2 weeks notice to my supervisor. I think I might be nice enough to put it into writing, as opposed to going to his desk and delivering a steaming pile of.... well, I'll just put it in writing.

I'm still here,
Pearce

Three weeks, four days, 15 hours, 7 minutes and 37 seconds. 307
cigarettes not smoked, saving $129.17. Life saved: 1 day, 1 hour, 35
minutes.