You want to know how to get over your just-entered-the-third-trimester-and-are-starting-to-feel-like-this-isn’t-as-much-fun-as-it-was-a-few-weeks-ago fatigue? Here’s how: tell your still-an-intern-because-he-can’t-get-his-shit-together-and-prove-he-graduated student worker to do something, and then have him EMAIL you back that he is too busy and to do it yourself.
Motherfucker, I know you didn’t just go there.
And I can’t believe that you were dumb enough to cc the deputy program manager on the email.
My blood pressure went through the ceiling. I had on one of those solid metal ring-style necklaces with a pendant and I could hear the pendant clicking since it was sitting over the pulse point in my throat.
And did I mention that this little exchange happened right at 5 o’clock (this was yesterday, if I didn’t clarify that) when anyone who had any power to do anything about it was already gone for the day?
I’ve been having trouble with insomnia again. It never went completely away during the second tri, but it got better. This week though, it’s been three nights, waking up at 1-2 in the morning and laying there for an hour. Or two. Or three. And last night, of course, all I could think of was how I was going to handle this little situation. Well, that, and I had the freaking Jack Skellington song from Nightmare Before Christmas on repeat in my head. You can imagine that I was not a happy camper. To the point where, round about 3 am, I told myself that if I was still awake at four, I was going to just get up and go into work early and get the day over with. Of course, at that point, I finally fell back asleep.
Needless to say, I was still a little (okay, a LOT) unhappy when I got into work. But then I found out that my good-friend-coworker had taken it upon herself to call the program manager last night, and that the deputy PM had gotten pinged on his blackberry, and there were several eyebrows that had been raised over still-an-intern’s behavior. I’m not sure exactly what was said to him (although I did get copied on on the DPM’s email response to his I’m-too-busy email), but he’s apologized to my via email twice and apparently realized he’s in shit so deep that he’s avoiding me. And after a day of being left the fuck alone, I have regained my calm.
Hopefully this means that I’ll be able to sleep tonight.