#i am sure many of these pros seem pathetic. the basic respect of being called my name was robbed of me at my previous job

[emdotcom]

Pros of the new job:

Crazy-ass hours mean I don't need to adhere to my family's schedule (i.e. -- dinner's at 5, but they don't guilt trip me if I don't go, now)

Only one person has made me feel like i should quit, so far, & it was only one time

I have a name, & people bother to call me the correct one!! (IMAGINE)

Free slorpie & sodie yay yay yay :D

So far, nobody has told me off for drawing or listening to my headphones, so long as I'm paying attention to customers (& I am!)

On the one occasion that I did work a double shift 1) it was only due to another person calling in sick (& it was NOT intentionally scheduled like that, multiple days in a row, unlike my first job), 2) They made sure I got a break in-between the shifts (any break at all is better than my first job, but they gave me multiple hours & my manager personally covered me while I took said break), & 3) They moved my next shift down (again -- manager took the shift I was going to work) so i could get more than 6 hours of sleep before coming back for another 8 hours.

I get paid weekly, &, thus far, not a single check has been late (unlike my previous job, where i was paid ""bi-weekly"" -- which was always 2-9 days late by my boss & post-dated to not pay out for another several days)

They have not asked me to do anything INCREDIBLY ILLEGAL. Like the type of thing that would get a doctor shut down & stripped of their license for a major violation.

I don't constantly consider killing myself just to avoid working (i am not joking. It was fucking attrocious. It was constant. It was before work, at work, & after work, DAILY)

Having a job means I don't need to wade through the hellscape that is job applications, &, so far, have paid of 2/3 of the debts i accrued when I was jobless (the third one is slightly more substantial, & will take up at least 1/2 my check)

I have money, again! God, i missed not having to stress over whether i could afford the gas needed to drive to all these damned job interviews, wondering if I needed to borrow MORE money, & driving knowing that I probably won't get the job that is currently eating up my tank

The schedule has been less unrelenting. If i applied for health insurance, I would likely be able to make doctor appointements & keep them. A novel concept

Cons of the new job:

There are several tasks that would take me mere minutes to complete if I were left uninterrupted for a relevant amount of time, but bc of TWO company policies, they all take me hours

They don't like when we sit down, so I continue to have severe joint pains that last multiple days. If anyone has a good shoe brand, pls reccomend

This job makes me horribly aware of how bad I am at making eye contact

It turns out I am not a "night person," as I have assumed for the past 20 years, but instead have "chronic, untreated insomnia" that affects me regardless of what time of day it is, & so taking night/over-night shifts did not suddenly make me a person who can just go to sleep easily. Who'd-a thunk it!

I am still really bad at time management, I am still really tired, & it still feels like all my hours are slipping away (every job has felt like this, so far)

#em.txt #i am sure many of these pros seem pathetic. the basic respect of being called my name was robbed of me at my previous job #at every introduction. over every phone call i placed. on every letter i mailed out on that job's behalf #i wrote & spoke my name. & it meant so little nobody bothered to say it. #suicide ment

[razieltwelve]

Another Season

So… another season ends for the San Antonio Spurs. Normally, I’d be filled with rage at this point, filled with the belief that this year could have been the year if only the refs weren’t blind or if only a few more shots had fallen.

Not this year.

I first became a Spurs fan in the days of David Robinson, and my love for the team only grew after Duncan joined, followed by Parker and Ginoboli. 1999, 2003, 2005, and 2007 are years I won’t ever forget, especially 2003 when Duncan basically had to carry the Spurs to the title alone since Parker was a scrub, Ginobili was struggling to channel his full potential, and Robinson was basically a shell of himself.

2013 was agony… but 2014 was ecstasy.

It is a measure of how good things have been as a Spurs fan that the past several years have been troubling. I can’t help but think of what could have been if Pachulia hadn’t taken out Leonard in the playoffs when we were cruising to a victory against Golden State. Leonard would go on to miss basically the rest of the next year before being traded to the Raptors along with Danny Green.

In the past, so much of my ire has been caused by the fact that, in all honesty, the Spurs could have won it all. You look at those years when Duncan was in his prime, and the Spurs really were a legitimate threat to win it all and you think, yep, maybe if Manu doesn’t foul Dirk in 2006 or we don’t get robbed by the worst timekeeper ever in 2004, maybe we win more championships. Even in 2015 and 2016, I would argue that we were really only a bit of bad luck away from winning it all. In 2015, if Leonard had remembered how to play basketball vs the Clippers and Duncan hadn’t been called for a ghost foul on Chris Paul, we’d have won that series, and likely the championship. Likewise, in 2016, if Duncan doesn’t injure his one remaining good knee in December, he likely has enough left in the tank for one more great playoff run.

Keep in mind, Duncan on zero working knees was still an All NBA Defence level player. It was his offence that suffered because he couldn’t elevate at all, and pivoting and changing speed and direction became impossible. Even so, he played well enough that most people thought it was simply age slowing him down a little and not an injury. That series against OKC would have looked different indeed if Duncan had even one working knee.

This season has been a bit different. I knew right from the start of the season that we weren’t going to win it all barring some kind of apocalyptic event wiping out half the NBA. Aldridge, as good as he has been for us, is not Duncan. He cannot carry a team to a title along although he has shown he can carry one into the playoffs. Derozan was new to the system, and players seldom do well in their first year with the Spurs due to having to adjust (see e.g., Aldridge). Worse still, Murray, our promising point guard, went down before the season started, and White, our other promising point guard, missed lots of time too. Rudy Gay, likewise, was in and out of the squad due to lingering injury issues.

A team that starts Bryn Forbes is unlikely to win a title. And I say that with all due respect to Forbes. I do not question his heart or his effort. He has worked hard to make it into the NBA, and he tries his guts out when he’s on court. But he lacks the stunning speed and agility of Tony Parker or the mad genius of Manu Ginobili with the ball. And for all his shooting prowess, he cannot catch fire like Curry not steadily rain bombs down from the deep like Ray Allen. 

Forbes’ limitations are not due to lack of effort or desire, so I do not hold them against him. Criticise a player who does not care or one who does not try. A player who gives everything he has only to find that it isn’t quite enough is still worthy of praise. 

White in the series against Denver was in half the games absolutely brilliant and in the other half ineffectual. Again, I am not mad. White is not a veteran. He is not a seasoned pro with a title or two under his belt and years at the helm with the ball. I remember how bad Parker was those first few years when Pop would make him cry (as Parker so often made us, the fans, cry with his awful play), and I look at Derrick and realise that there is much to be hopeful for.

Derrick White is inconsistently awesome. Perhaps next season he will be consistently awesome instead.

Aldridge has, this season, again been a great foundation for the Spurs. He is a poor man’s Duncan, I suppose, but a poor man’s Duncan is still quite a player. And as much as Aldridge has, in the past, made us question his drive and his desire, these past two years have done much to assuage those doubts. He has fought, scrabbled, and clawed, and the Spurs have made it to the playoffs each year. He’s not Duncan, but then again, who could be? Instead, he is Aldridge, and that, I believe, is enough.

Derozan, likewise, has baggage. His performances in the playoffs have so often been pathetic. To be sure, he was not stellar in every game against Denver, and too often in the season his iso play and reckless ball handling got the Spurs into trouble. But he has heart. He so clearly wants to win and he so clearly wants to help his teammates that I can’t help but wonder if it is that desire, that desperate desire, that forces those mistakes. Regardless, I think his first season in San Antonio was okay, and he should be better next season.

Poeltl was a good pickup. I miss Danny Green. His story always resonated with me, and for all his streakiness, he was a man who played with fearlessness on defence, something I greatly enjoyed. Many a transition basket met its end at the hands of a Danny Green chase down block. Poeltl, meanwhile, is shaping up to be the best centre the Spurs have had for some time, setting aside Duncan who played centre more and more as he aged. I look forward to his progress.

In years past, I have been too angry to write coherently when the Spurs are eliminated. I love the team, and watching them lose has sometimes caused me so much stress that I cannot bear to watch the games live but must instead force myself to refresh the score on my phone every few minutes. And yet this year, I find myself feeling calm, if a little empty.

This year was not our year. I knew that from the start. Yet watching this team grow and play has made me fond of them. They are not the titans of yesteryear, back when Duncan, Parker, and Ginoboli made it seem like anything was possible or when Leonard seemed to devour enemy ball handlers whole. But they play hard and they play for each other, and whether it’s winning or losing, they do it together and with good grace.

And perhaps it is because of next year.

Aldridge may be one year older, but Derozan will have one more year to learn the system. Murray will be back, one year older and wiser, and so will White and Forbes and Poeltl. 

This year was not our year, but it’s looking more and more that maybe, just maybe, next year or the year after might.

And lastly, since the Spurs are out, I might as well nominate a team.

Go Bucks! 

#nba #basketball #san antonio spurs #spurs

[leafallsonelines]

Bizarre Love Triangle

I'm not sure what this could mean I don't think you're what you seem I do admit to myself, that if I hurt someone else Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be  -New Order

I didn't want to get into a relationship.

He wore me down and soon enough I was the one crazy about him. I always answer to the undefinably strong pull toward a certain person. I was soul weary and needed a break from emotional turmoil. When you meet somebody else, they're the main character of their own love story (just like I am in mine; as it should be). I'm privy to fact that we all have a history, especially when dating in your late 20's and 30's. I wasn't ready for our stories to collide.

I desperately wanted to avoid cluttering my life with someone else's relationship baggage when I haven't even taken care of mine. He campaigned hard for the relationship. I went for it.

Despite my better judgment I always cave—give in to that desire — anticipate and absorb the pain that inevitably follows.

I told you that story to tell you this one.

Back in 2014 the term Cool Girl ™ was coined to describe women who change their personality for male approval. (The shtick is contrived and annoying once you spot it.) She doesn't have a solid sense of self and basks in attention to fill. That void; hoards men like Thanksgiving hams and gets territorial when she's not The Girl. She gets kicks from seeing how uncomfortable she can make other girls by openly flirting with their boyfriends just to watch them squirm. This act is so played out most people have an eye roll ready for anyone flying the “I'm not like other girls” banner. (Gen Z now calls them Pick-Me-Girls ™.)

I crossed paths with one in 2018 — my boyfriend's best friend of sixteen years. A self-indulgent, selfish friendship. I wasn't initially jealous, didn't interrupt, and it came back to bite me; it was hideously unfair.

For storytelling purposes let's call her “Kate Luu.” Kate, an incestuous tigermom who gets jealous of any girl her son gets with, a petulant toddler that would rather break a toy than let someone else play with it. Probably has BPD. Definitely needs a good therapist.

Like a lot of dewy eyed girls newly in love I conveniently dismissed the red flags around my boyfriend and Kate. I had empathy for them because of my past platonic friendships with flirty undertones. Guys would respectfully fall back when they got into relationships or if I Was in one. I struggled with the slow withdrawal of warmth, missed the emotional intimacy, but recognized it as the right call and moved on. A lot of young adults exploring their sexuality go through this. As I got older I favored female friendships for being uncomplicated, preferring to avoid unwanted sexual tension.

Empathy without boundaries is self-destruction.

A couple weeks after celebrating our one year anniversary Kate texts me, “We need to talk.” Alarms immediately go off in my head. The last few months I had started bringing attention to the bad vibe I was getting and the inappropriate nature of the relationship. I got tired of biting my tongue. He didn't know how to process it or correct it. His lingering infatuation with her made it impossible for him to distance himself or enforce new boundaries. He started hiding it instead. I caught him being intentionally ambiguous about his plans when going to see her. He fumbled himself into an emotional affair.

Princess Diana famously described her marriage to Charles as “crowded.” It was an unmistakable reference to his affair with Camilla. Looking back the (justifiable) anxiety I had was from being crowded. Intuition is not insecurity.

I met Kate for coffee and she read aloud a pathetic five page letter telling me I'm a bad girlfriend and “full of shit.” She was intervening on his behalf as the person who knows what's best for my boyfriend.

“It's none of your business.”

But no, she has the authority to interfere as his best friend of  sixteen years  and I was a  one year  nothing. She brought up the fact he was attracted to her first, told me I'm spineless and ruining their friendship with my insecurity. (She _really _ran with the words spineless and insecure.)

Accusations are confessions when they come from a manipulative person. Textbook projection. She was mad her narcissistic supply was tapering off. (Gaslighting Pro-tip: Label rightful jealousy as insecurity.)

My boyfriend gave her personal, intimate details of my life during their oversharings and she used that information to bully me. Nothing was off the table, including my sexual history. I can see how she manipulated him, but it was inexcusable. People who enable They leave the door open for endless rows of inappropriate behavior. All of this was happening behind my back for a year. That kind of intimate toxicity are suckers for ego massages.

Don't you just love a story where the villain puts all the evidence of her misdeeds in one letter and unravels into epic, illogical rage all in one afternoon, in the space of two hours?

How did Kate have time to write five pages of false narratives designed to destroy a relationship she was jealous of? She doesn't have a job. She's a pampered dog mom living in her rich fiancé's house for free. A busybody performatively taking care of other people to avoid a mountain of personal issues. (An unevolved Virgo.)

Don't worry about what I'm doing. Worry about why you're worried about what I'm doing.

Kate has many noticeable traits as an obnoxious, self-important person — an absolute fake. She calls herself a _philanthropist _without having done anything philanthropic or even knowing how to use the word; she literally saw a big SAT word that means good person and attached Herself to it. (A word assigned to big charitable donors like Bill Gates, not bloggers). She has the same relationship with the word “unconventional” and thinks using a bigger word for unique or quirky makes her even more unique and quirky. Nope, still basic.) In place of possessing any actual humor she repeats memorized dad jokes and leans into corny, forced puns. If this isn't annoying enough she then insists she's funny. (Funny people just make you laugh. They never have to tell people they're funny. Barfs in, “I speak fluent sarcasm.”)

If I poked a finger through her shallow veneer I'd find loose dirt and dog shit.

And you know what? I'm not even against intense friend love. I get it. I groove to “One Love.” Emotional freedom is important. Expressions of love are multitudinous. It should transform to fit the situation. She didn't respect basic boundaries to make room for all of us to be comfortable. She was just mad she got demoted and tried to burn the whole thing down.

Kate wanted to be the main character in my boyfriend's love story without ever actually dating him. Oh yes, I know — the audacity, the toxic lack of boundaries, the mind numbing arrogance. She's not even protagonist material — a papier-mâché hipster who got her personality from an Urban Outfitters catalog and can't stop contradicting herself despite the fact she is working off a pre-written letter. I have never encountered someone who thought so highly of herself while having almost no substance. She calls herself a writer , but is just a pseudo-intellectual English major who posts aesthetic word salad on Instagram.

Later on I realized that if someone is mean to you unprovoked it's jealousy. One of the catalysts for the meetup was a heartfelt anniversary post I wrote on Instagram. It's not my usual style, but I felt gushy and really went full blown poetic and swoony She's jealous that her own, brought up love and Birth of Venus, blah blah blah. She mentioned my IG post and even admitted it was poetic and well written, but proceeded to use that as the jumping off point to invalidate the love in it. writing is try-hard drivel; a woman in her thirties mentally stuck in 2011 tumblr cringe.

If she truly wanted him she should have pursued him honestly and not wait to mess with another person. Hell, even just owning up to her feelings and saying, “I realize I may have lost my chance with you. Is there still anything in our sixteen year history that makes you want to give us a shot instead? ”à la My Best Friend's Wedding. Treading some moral gray area, but way more acceptable than actively sabotaging a relationship.

She didn't really want him though. She just wanted to continue their friendship in that inappropriate flirtationship space to feed her ego. After the coffee date she ended their friendship in an email. That really important sixteen year friendship became disposable to her once she wasn't able to control it.

Sometimes trash does the public service of loudly identifying itself as trash and takes itself out.

If you're a female best “friend” to a guy in a relationship and you need to flex on “I was here first” and “We did this before you were in the picture,” then you were never interested in seeing that friend thrive in a romantic relationship. You just get off on being his favorite unfulfilled option. If seeing him in love with someone new has you feeling that miserable you're just being selfish. Real love doesn't overstep in a new relationship so you can hog their spotlight. You're not even a friend; you're a skunk marking your territory and keeping him in the friendzone while not really wanting him to have a girlfriend.

You learn to love somebody in their love language and not just yours. Selfish love is not real love. That's just using someone to fill a place. Maybe a distraction. Seeking anything in return isn't real love because if you want that you actually don't have love to give; it's fake; it's toxic. If there's someone who isn't around anymore and you miss them consider the fact that you might just miss the place they held in your life. (You have the freedom to fill that space anyway you want.)

She realized she burned through all her goodwill thus the sudden ghosting and extracting herself. I never asked my partner to pick me or issued any ultimatums. Sometimes important questions stay unanswered. Sometimes you have to move on without the apology you deserve. There is grief in never receiving closure.

My partner finally saw my concerns validated in the aftermath. I bubbled with rage remembering excuses he made for her. Day in and day out I was drinking from an overflowing cup of righteous anger. So what was his role in this? Stupid or co- conspirator?

He was oblivious.

“I can't believe you could've left me for a wannabe influencer.”

I switched my phone wallpaper from his picture to a solid color. Looking at his face filled me with disgust. There's only so much letting go you can ask someone to do. I knew I still loved him, but anytime a woman is hurt she becomes less interested.

How do you recover from unknowingly letting a toxic bitch walk all over and jeopardize your relationship?

Friends told me to move on, date other people. He campaigned for the relationship again. We did the work of picking up the pieces and starting over. 

I'm not pretending to be perfect. I was reeling from back to back traumas. My soft spots turned hard and cynical. It was my turn to be the toxic one. I drove to work sobbing everyday for a month. I complained constantly. My default became anxious and suspicious. I'm so out of touch with the person I was before; she's a stupidly innocent, free-spirited stranger to me. It took time for the poison leach out.

It's a lot of baggage.

The couples who make it aren't always the ones that never had a reason to break up. They're the ones that decide their commitment to each other is more important than their mistakes. Fast forward to the herculean effort he made to earn back my trust and we're still very happily together. (This is published with his permission.)

Our relationship is more grounded in reality now. It's not crowded anymore. Somethings more precious from having almost been lost. Somethings will never be the same. I'm the villain in her story, just as much as she's the villain in mine. We get to live out our own endings and there is peace in that.

Hurtful, painful, memories. Memories of deep regrets, memories of hurting and being hurt. Memories of being abandoned. Only those with such memories buried in their hearts can become stronger, more passionate, and emotionally flexible. Only those can obtain happiness. So Don't forget any of it. Remember it all and overcome it. If you don't overcome it, you'll always be a kid whose soul never grows.  -The Boy Who Fed On Nightmares

#coolgirl #pickme #microcheating #emotional cheating #emotional affair