November 19, 2011

Empower Yourself to Pull Your Head Out of Your Ass

I arrived early for training yesterday at my internship. I had a little less than an hour to bullshit- so I called my mom. Amidst our bitching and catching up on the various shenanigans in our life, I exclaimed this post's title in reference to other people, "Empower yourself to pull your head out of your ass." I know, I'm a fabulous therapist. I told my mom she was free to use that statement when talking to coworkers.
I finally went to training which ended at 11am when it usually ends at 12pm. This means I could make the 45 minute drive to the other office for outpatient sessions and still have *gasp* an hour to eat! This was very exciting and I won't lie, I had been looking forward to it all week.

Granted, my lunch was a meager peanut butter sandwich and a package of Swedish Fish but it's better than my typical lunch on Fridays- nothing. When I first started the internship, I grazed on my food throughout the day at my desk. But I had the worst ants-in-the-pants and I figured it was probably because I forced myself to be in that miserable office for 11 straight hours. So now I make a point to eat in the break room and socialize with my coworkers or at least get my mind totally off of paperwork and clients.

So I waltzed in, with my hour sandwich. Immediately followed by my coworker.

     Now, before people get the wrong impression, I understand that
     people need to vent (I mean, come on, that's my job!) and I know
     that people in my field can only vent to people also in the field.
     So bitching during lunch in the break room is inevitable. I GET
     THAT.

But,  Jesus. There's a point where you have got to stop bitching. For example, when people ask you, "How are you?", there IS a correct answer- I don't care what people say, that's the damn truth. The correct answer is "Fine." or another 2-syllabled answer like "Tired", "Busy", or "Good". After 2 syllables, I've got 3 syllables in mind, "I don't care." You have reached your update quota. Why does Twitter only allow 120 characters per post? Because we want an update- not your fucking lifestory. You have a 2 syllables to convey your point and if you cannot do that- expand your vocabulary.

Not this coworker! Nope! She will tell you EVERYTHING (Katt Williams "Everything? Ev.er.y.thing.") that's going on and every time it's bad. Ok, I'm exaggerating. There are moments when she's not negative... she's not exactly positive either, but, you know, whatever.

And fortunately, she just wanted a soundboard. So while I dazed out thinking about American Horror Story (love that shit) while still saying, "No way!" and "Uh-huh.", I was able to suit her needs to vent without really doing anything. But even when I try to agree and give a short example peripheral to my life- which people do-, I could barely get the words out before she was back on herself.
"I'm on my fucking lunch break!"
Again, I recognize that sometimes people need to do this. But this is the one hour I get once a month when training ends early on Fridays (I frequently don't get to eat lunch on Wednesdays either until 3) that I can relax and appreciate my food. .Fuck. Off.I was definitely 2 seconds from a Bad Santa moment. I listen to people's problems all day- I just want this one hour to eat my sandwich.

And then I was late getting my 1pm client from the waiting room because I was listening to her issues.

I spent the trip home wondering how she didn't realize that I didn't care. Or maybe she did realize it... and didn't care. It made no sense.

I have to stress- I don't mean to be mean when I say this shit. I just use this as an example to encourage people to empower yourself to pull your head out of your ass. Again, not in a mean way, just recognize that there is a world outside of yourself and what you see. Other people's priorities and paths are different. Have faith in yourself to manage and endure through the shit surrounding you (HA! Pun totally not intended) because whether you believe it or not- it can get worse. Pull on those big boy/girl pants (see last post) and keep movin'! You can do it! And I have found when I put my problems at the same level as others' (even if it's to think about the starving Pygmies in New Guinea like Larry the Cable Guy) my problems look like nothing- a cake walk.

     ...a cake walk lined with Swedish Fish. Those things are fucking delicious.

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