craptacular

you may have noticed i haven't really done much in the way of posting in the past several months. some of it can be attributed to the fact that i've been working, on the typical, 50- to 70-hour-ish weeks.

which hopefully will change in a couple of weeks. i finally realized that most of my stress came from the fact that i have two positions at work, and both have, in recent months, had full-time workloads. when i originally started my dual role, it made sense. it was always a 50-50 split, or 60-40, or 70-30. and recently, it's been more like 100-100, with the split not happening so much, which led to me making some really, really stupid mistakes on my editing side, and not doing my best to handle workloads on the trafficking side.

so i finally told my boss this a couple of mondays ago that i want to go back to full-time editing, which means moving back to my previous department. no worries. well, some worries that i won't go into just yet.

in the past 2.5 months, i've been taken into my boss's office once a week for her to tell me how people are complaining to her about my attitude. i'm an asshole. i'm unhappy. i'm snippy. i don't pay attention when people come up to my desk because i'm so focused on what i'm doing, and people get offended by that.

finally on a friday in the all too recent past, my boss asked me if maybe, just maybe, i'd feel better just doing proofing/editing. it took me by surprise. but not so much. she was obviously seeing something i wasn't. so i had to look inwards, and, well, yeah. blah blah blah.

to say i kinda feel forced out of the traffic portion of my position is an understatement. while i understand where people are coming from, agian, no one, except one person, has actually voiced their concerns to me. which is, you know, standard fucking practice. you know, resolve your problems with the person before you go and fucking complain to their superiors. whatever.

it just feels so much like when i was managing editor of the SWT newspaper my last year in college. which lasted a semester, because nobody liked me treating them like they actually work for a newspaper. having worked professionally in the field before going back to college to work on my degree (which still elludes me to this day), i brought a lot to the table. which was appreciated, at first. but once i was in a higher position of power, man, people hated me. and again, no one complained to me. they didn't even complain to the editor in cheif, who was my boss. no, they went to our faculty adviser. which was bullshit. they'd complain about "he makes us get stuff in on deadline." "my boyfriend broke up with me, and i was crying at my desk and making careless mistakes, and he was trying to make me go home." "he told me my headlines are vague and to rewrite them. what's vague about team wins game?" "he made me rewrite a review because it didn't actually even mention what i was supposed to be reviewing."

yeah.

this is a little different, because this is supposed to be in an adult, professional environment. (ha!) it still makes me feel like shit. not because i've disappointed people. but because i've disappointed myself. here's this job i'm really good at, but it stresses the shit out of me to the point that i want to go into someone's office and beat them up. and this is a sweet mother of two i'm talking about.

so, again, while i know i'm probably doing what's best for the company, and what's best for me, sanity-wise, i still feel like a failure. why can't i have a better game face? why can't i just let shit roll off my back? why do i have to be an asshole when i can bottle it up and drink about it later?

i know i made strides at work when i started back on the traffic side. every one has told me that. but i haven't made strides in myself. i've just become this hollow, alcoholic asshole that is based on work. i hate him. and i hate that i've let myself become him.

my once (and future) supervisor, who when i told her that i was probably going to move back to full-time proofing/editing and told her this entire story above, told me "i miss your old, cynical self." "yeah," i said, "i do, too."