The Day After the Christmas Party
Added at 1:36pm and filed under Corporate Puppet, Geek Speak, Oh Mama, Weighty Issues, bff, family, health
Christmas parties. The beginning and end of so many promising careers.
Ours was last night. We had a team outing last week, which was all very civilised and lovely, but last night signaled the official end of the year for the entire organisation so – as is the tradition – all hell broke loose. It looked like a scene out of Saving Private Ryan, only with blazers and ties and inappropriately low-cut tops.
People drank too much, ate too much and gossiped too much. Glasses were smashed and people fell over. As I understand it there were more than a couple of inappropriate propositions, made worse by the fact that the propositioned was sober and the propositionee was oh-so-not. There was an argument, (although that was me, yelling at my Work BFF when he left me waiting around outside like a lameass) and when one of the guys hugged me goodnight he grabbed my left breast when he pulled away. (You’d be reasonable to assume that it was an accident but there was CUPPAGE, people). I also ended up having to take a colleague home. It was miles out of my way, but should give an indication to the kind of state she must’ve been in to have warranted such a lengthy detour.
Yes, I was driving which and yes, that is boring, but as I don’t particularly need alcohol to have fun and always struggle to get home, it’s often just easier to have the car. Plus I’ve witnessed that many people commit career-suicide at Christmas functions over the years that I’ve just learned that it pays to be restrained. (Well, sometimes). I’ve been struggling a bit in work this year – a whole messy, stupid saga that I’ll bore you with one day, I’m sure – so I spent most of the evening in the company of the scant few guys who work at my place, safe in a booze-fueled haze and conversations about video games, films and lewd jokes. (Aside: It’s only recently that I’ve utterly accepted that I struggle to make and retain girlfriends, a fact emphasised further when I realised that the few good female friends that I do have tend to have the same issue. I’m so much more comfortable in the company of guys; they talk about stuff I understand, and there’s rarely snide glances or catty comments. I’m definitely better off sticking to what I know. Yeah, people raise their eyebrows and exchange looks when I’m the only female in a crowd of lads, but at least I know where I stand, you know?)
Well, as long as they’re not accidentally-deliberately grabbing my tits.
Anyway!
In other news, I aced the first assignment of my Masters degree, coming home – bizarrely – with a distinction for a topic I had never even HEARD of prior to my class, let alone studied. I think everyone else on my course thinks I’m a suck-up and hates me now. Heh. And thanks to all for the kind comments about Fluffy Sam. He seems to be okay, but the vet doesn’t really understand what happened, nor can offer anything to help. I think we’ve concluded that it must’ve been some kind of seizure, but right now it seems like we’ll never know for sure. Very odd.
Right. TMI stuff is coming up, so look away now if you can’t read the word PERIOD without wanting to hurl:
Had an appointment with my consultant last week who flatly refused my request for a hysterectomy. I think he thinks that I made the decision on the hop, like I just thought of it randomly as I was walking across the car park or something, but seriously – I cannot go on like this. My family cannot go on like this. We know that we can’t have any more children and I’ve made my peace with this as best I can. Every single time I have a period my insides are getting worse, and every time I have a period it’s heavier and heavier and lasting longer and longer (it lasted THREE weeks last time). I have to have a spare change of clothes with me, and I can’t go anywhere or do much of anything because I’m completely fucking stoned on painkillers. So honestly – what’s the point? Take the whole lot out. It’s all well and good him telling me that I’m ‘very young’ and that this operation has a ‘high regret rate’ but it’s not like I don’t know these things. What’s the point of putting off the inevitable?
Anyway. We compromised on me having second course of Zoladex, the subcutaneous injections that did nothing for me in early 2007. This time, bizarrely, it’s brought bring on a period and a whole mess of mood swings and insane crying fits. Gee, thanks. If the treatment works, woohoo, and if it doesn’t work – and I’m convinced that it won’t – then we’ll talk seriously about the surgery. Until then I’m stuck with omnipresent menopausal symptoms and a monthly shot. Awesome.
Otherwise, we’re all ticking along nicely. I’ve been working on a secret little web project for the last couple of weeks, which I hope to launch soon – I’m dead excited and hope (some of) you will love it as much as I think I’m going to. If it KILLS me I’d like to finish off the changes to CodeGrrl, which have been in the pipeline for years but – due to my crapness – I haven’t done. Yeah, I’m being cryptic on both counts but watch this space . . .
Offline, my weight loss has gone tits-up thanks to two weeks of consecutive partying, but I have (re-)joined a gym and played badminton this week in an effort to buffer all the cake-eating by pretending to exercise. (Aside #2: I still much prefer my EA Active to actually going to a gym – is that weird? But my friend was desperate to join and, as we’re quite good at bullying each other when one of us is being crap, we hope that our over-competitiveness will spur us on). I’m actually incredibly down about it, which is pathetic and stupid but true nonetheless. I’ve put on 3lbs in two weeks and whilst mentally I realise that this is not the end of the world, I just feel like a massively self-control-less LOSER, not helped by the fact that I my hormones are all over the place thanks to these shots. Happy Days.
Christmas presents have (mostly) been bought, albeit not wrapped, but as today rings my last day in work for 2009 (THANK FUCK), it’s my intention to get going on it all on Monday. Last year I distinctly remember getting the boxes down from the attic only to find a heap of painfully unwrapped gifts. I ended up tearing around like a whirling-dervish on Christmas Eve trying to get it all done – not how I’d envisaged spending the evening and certainly not what I plan on doing next Friday!
Comments: (7)
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On 18 December, 2009 at 3:29 pm, Sefie said:
Ugh, why do they have to put you through another phase of ineffective medication? I get that hysterectomy is a permanent, life changing deal but they should do it when it’s causing this much grief to you… Hopefully they’ll agree to it once you’ve proven the other stuff doesn’t work.
I hear you on the getting along better with guys thing. I seem to be like that too. It’s alright if you can stand the stupid people who get too cuddly when drunk… But in my experience, it gets too cuddly with some girls too, hah. At least with my workmates there hasn’t been any scheming and bitching.
On 18 December, 2009 at 7:45 pm, Mar said:
Heh, I also have mostly male friends. I try and avoid drinking with them unless I have a sober male (or my boyfriend) along to look out for me. I always end up with them trying to be all over me or what not. Thankfully I’ve yet to have anyone grab a boob like you mentioned. I can’t even imagine how irritated that would make me. Good on ya for not punching him in the face.
On 19 December, 2009 at 12:37 pm, Sharon said:
Next time he tries a drunken booby-grope I suggest you grab his manly-bits in a not very friendly way; he’ll soon back off ;)
And poooooo to the docs who won’t support you in wanting a hysterectomy. It’s strange when the medical profession would rather see you suffer in pain than actually do something that – although life changing – would arguably make your life better in the long run.
On 19 December, 2009 at 11:44 pm, Char said:
Christmas parties, humm. We had ours and luckily I got to play Wii and have a few drinks. Nothing crazy happened at ours. Just a good time is all. I too can’t stand hanging out with women they are just to catty.
That’s just so much to go through being so young. i always thought doctors were suppose to support their patients but I can see how he/she wants to make sure you’ve utilized every opportunity available.
On 21 December, 2009 at 6:17 am, Audrey said:
I too am more drawn to hanging out with the menfolk than a gaggle of women. I just relate to the topics of conversation better with men than with women, most of the time anyway. I suppose that comes along with being a gamer/computer nerd?
With the history you have regarding you ‘lady bits’ it’s asinine they’re not following your request for a hysterectomy. If you can’t have children with it then you’ll have little to regret without it. Ugh :\ Jumping through hoops is never fun, but best of luck with it all.
I too am off as of Friday for the rest of the year! Woohoo! *No more work in 2009 Dance.*
On 22 December, 2009 at 9:24 am, Vixx said:
Ha – look at all, getting on with blokes better than females! Clearly we’re internet buddies because we’re so similar. :)
V xx
On 23 December, 2009 at 12:34 am, Sarah said:
Aw, man, that condition sounds so painful! I think that’s fruity as fuck that the doctor didn’t even try discussing a hysterectomy with you. It’s not like you’re a 20yr old off the street, full of angst and not wanting children!
And I share your sentiments about being excited about your secret web project. WINK ;D