Quitting Smoking

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

…for the millionth time.  Or so it seems.

So I quit tobacco on the 16th of June.  One slip on the 22nd consisting of two cigarettes.  Since then, it’s been me, the patch and a lot of whining.

“They” say (and, “they” are always right) that the longer you go, the less frequent but the more severe the cravings are.  I have found this, in my previous attempts, to be completely true.  As it stands right now, I’m sitting at my desk, watching the clock.  “They” say massive cravings only last a few moments.  The on-set of my demon begin at 10.53.

Since that time, I have taken a walk around the parking lot, gobbled an anti-anxiety tablet, joined an internet forum for folks who are in the same boat, shed a tear and squeezed a coffee cup.  I’m still feeling like absolute hell.  If there were a small animal around, I should certain run over it with a car.

My rationale for quitting smoking is basic common sense.  While I loved my sole vice more than anything, working in healthcare has shown me exactly what is going to happen to my body if I continue.  It sucks.  It sucks having one vice and having to give up said vice.

I started thinking about substance abuse and withdrawal, in general.  Funny that you can enter rehab for alcohol, drugs, compulsive behaviours, etc… but there is no, “rehab” for us nicotine addicts.  We have to go it alone, through every day life, with every day pressures.  We have to suck it up.  There is no safe place for us to dry out and get the shit out of our system.  I wonder why that is?

If you haven’t noticed, I have been very quiet on the internets as of late.  Work has kept me quite occupied.  But, I have found a way to keep my mind active while not at work.  I have substituted my addiction for nicotine with a video game.  For some odd reason, while playing a game, I find myself less inclined to want a cigarette.  My mind is so preoccupied with the game, it’s a little emotional and mental tranquility for me.

None the less, I do wish there was some sort of treatment facility I could go hide at for thirty days.  It would make the process so much easier.  So, so much easier.

And what’s with the Nicotine Anonymous meetings, anyhow?  I noticed my local chapter meets ONCE A WEEK.  WTF?  Not once a day.  Once a phucking week.  I was hoping for a program I could attend in the morning and the evening.  Nope.  Sundays only.

:sighs:

And thus ends my fragmented rant.

For now.

I’m off for a good crying jag.

Please help…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

Shark’s sister-in-law lost everything she owns last night due to a tornado tearing up her Kansas town.

A list of needs will be compiled and posted shortly.  If you have anything to spare or wish to donate a gift card to Target or WallyWorld, please let me know.

Many thanks!

Public Speaking

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Etiquette, Personal

Ugh.

Does anyone actually enjoy standing up and addressing a group of people? If so, please ply me with the drugs you take.

In school, I used to tear through my French Orals with a reckless abandon. Everyone was (mostly) impressed with my abilities to regurgitate garbage and answer questions rather quickly. Let me say this - it had nothing to do with my abilities to speak French. It had everything to do with my fear of standing up and yammering like a blithering idiot in front of a group of people (regardless of the fact that we probably horked over the same bowl the night before at a mixer).

My disdain for speaking aloud was reflected in a production meeting/mockery session at Tragic Boats. The VP of Ops imitated my high-pitched, squeakiness one day to the delight of everyone in the room. Thanks, asshat.

Today, I was thrown in front of a group of unyielding CFOs and fellow corporate comrades. No hiding behind a monitor and the written word for me. I had to speak, briefly and cogently to an audience who could give a rat’s ass about my rationale and only cared about the numbers.

Donning my new wardrobe of slutty librarian, I passed out my wild graphs and addressed the group. No stammering, no sputtering, no giggling…just a basic and somewhat forceful sounding explanation of my thought process. They actually seemed…:gasps:…impressed. Either that, or they were fixed on my b00bs.

Anyhooo…things are going swimmingly well. I’m chirpily explaining some analysis when someone asks me a question. One of my suppliers created a pitiful proposal which will result in a significant loss if anyone converted. The CFO says, “According to your (magnificent, stupendous - ok I added that) graph, such and such would lose money if they…” To which I responded, “That’s correct sir. They would be bathing in shame and loss.” That witty retort was welcomed by a roomful of crickets.

I could have, should have, self-immolated on the spot.

Fortunately for me, these folks seem to understand my rather disturbed sense of humour (or lack thereof) and my, “original” way of speaking. They courteously and professionally allowed me to correct myself with, “Erm…yes. A bath, indeed.”

Mayhap it’s best that I stay behind a monitor.

Slutty librarian gear, cats-eye glasses, tousled bed-head and all.

My life…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

…as a consultant…

The average day now consists of:

• wake up
• stare at news
• throw on suit
• drive to work
• drop spores under fluorescent lighting
• molder in meetings
• demonstrate mad spreadsheet wizardry with formulas and graphs (yet - I couldn’t pass a math class at Uni if I tried)
• drink lunch over sink in kitchen
• more meetings, spreadsheets and spore dropping
• get in car
• rot in traffic
• come home
• kick dog (not really)
• get abused by cats
• hop over various guitar projects in living room
• eat take-away
• stare at tv
• troll internets
• fall asleep with book on face

Seriously. I absophuckinglutely love my job. I really do. And now that I have hired someone to clean up the house and take care of neglected domestic duties, I’m free to focus on work work work. w00t! The best part about being a consultant - no one micromanages you. No one tells you what to do. Particularly if you’re not having to truly log face time with the customer. Just throw on a suit, pull up a complex spreadsheet and people have a tendency to steer clear.

Now…if I could only find the time to address my neglected social responsibilities, I would be good to go. As it stands right now, I’m fighting the urge to fall asleep before the end of American Idol. Damn HenrythePenguin for getting me hooked on this shit.  Damn David Cook for reminding me of a younger version of Dock Ellis.

Lastly…Obama or Clinton? The primary is two weeks away and I’m actually undecided. I’m one of those idiots I criticize ad nauseam for not being able to make up her mind. Hooray for gross indifference.

It’s hard to be excited for a wet blanket

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

We all know someone who is so exceedingly negative that the mere act of peering in on their lives becomes an exercise in futility and utter frustration.  Granted, I’m as cynical as the next person, but I can certainly thank my lucky stars and share my joy when good things happen upon me.

Then, there is the wet blanket.  The person that, no matter what happens to them, their life is total shit.  They are their own martyr.  They constructed their own cross to bear.  And, they do it eloquently, deploying words to paint a picture of their own, odious suffering and turmoil.

As I sit, very busy but very happy with my new job, I want to not let wet blanket cloud my happy place.  Unfortunately, sometimes you cannot escape the smelly, wet blanket and you, yourself, turn into something bitter and annoying - through mere association.

It totally sucks having that element shit on your parade.

I suppose I will never understand what it’s like to have to complain about every single phucking thing that goes on around you.  Isn’t life too damn short.

And…

…to be utterly selfish…

…it deprives me of the right to share in the joy or celebration.  I want to smack that bitch upside the head with my happy stick in an attempt to make her happy.

Unfortunately, that would be a waste of time.

So, I eat chocolate and think of lulzy caek instead.

The Joys of Consulting…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

I may have mentioned before that life in health care is somewhat conservative. Sure, the humor is a little twisted (that’s a survival skill) but aside from that, it’s very buttoned-collar, starched shirt and stiff, if you catch my drift.

My attire, typically a nice skirt with some variation of sweater. Henrythepenguin and I both dress this way. Very nifty when it comes time for Henry to purge her wardrobe and bestow pretty things on her younger sister. Unfortunately for me, nice skirt and fashionable sweaters no longer cut it in my world. Working in a hospital, apparently, affords you a little bit of latitude in wardrobe. Working for hospitals, as a consultant, not so much. It’s suits, suits, suits with proper shoes.

I have spent the past two weeks shopping for new clothes.

I (basically) spent the entire tax refund on my new wardrobe.

You gotta pay to play.

Shopping for suits is not easy if you’re built like I am. My body is not designed for pants of any sort other than jeans or leggings. Considering that I’m not Lindsay Lohan (the queen of 90’s fashion) and denim is a no-no, one can only imagine the hell that I have been through trying to find suits with skirts. Everyone dresses like Hillary Clinton (pant suits) these days. Pants…particularly tailored pants…are not working. My butt is far too bootylicious and my hips are far too curvy to get anything over them. By the time I manage to find something that will go over my badonkadonk, my waist is surrounded by 20 inches of extra fabric. So, skirts it is.

Then there is the horror of trying to find a jacket which will close over the bosoms-of-doom. My shoulders and arms are swimming in tweed whilst my buttons are barely closing over the boobs. It’s not pretty.

Fortunately, Dock and Adam Smith have been more than supportive and willing to come along with me as I try to overhaul my wardrobe and create this illusion that I am a responsible professional. Dock holds my hand while I cry in frustration. Adam Smith simply gets me drunk on some alcoholic version of a Shirley Temple (simply divine).

As it stands right now, I have managed to acquire:

• 5 suits, replete with skirts of knee-length
• Various shells made of natural materials (preferably cotton)
• 3 pairs of shoes (two flats; one in black, one in brown and one pair of killer pumps)
• 1 purse (ok…I didn’t need that but I did receive a nice note from Coach offering me 25% off a purchase)
• 1 KangGreen (ok, booger green…so it’s Kang as in Marnie and not Kang as in the alien green) blazer made of some sort of wool
• 1 cream, suede jacket on the sale rack at Ann Taylor (originally $299, snapped it up for $99)

I’m estimating that I will need, at least, five more suits and various shells. I will also need a proper strand of pearls and a pair of suitable earrings, perhaps diamond studs or pearl studs. And, probably, two or three more pairs of shoes and one metric ass-load of Spanxx.

The worst part of this money hemorrhage is the fact that I did not get to buy anything remotely fun (ok…the suede jacket). It’s all proper attire for a proper lady professional to wear to proper meetings with big kahunas. The only good thing about this is that money does have a strange way of regenerating and this job allows me to make the necessary cabbage to support what is turning out to be a very expensive lifestyle.

…and, I must add, it’s nice to be able to drop a sizable chunk of change on leather goods without feeling compelled to explain it to Dock.  Saturday marked the first time in the history of our marriage that he did not scream when he saw a giant bag full of shoes from Nordstrom.

Where I have been hiding…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

Yup. Absent too long, neglecting the website, among many other things.

After several months of being unemployed, I managed to snag two jobs. Long story short, I’m back in health care, which makes me a very happy chappy. For as much as I loved the casual atmosphere of telecom, I simply couldn’t find many other positives about the industry. Canuckian Limited was the worst company one could ever work for. The Borktelekom was a fantastic company to work for but the pay was hideously poor and there was no sense of satisfaction; no sense of contributing to the greater good.

So, back to health care I am. This time, as a consultant. I get to combine my love for the industry with an opportunity to make some serious money. Not too shabby.

Unfortunately, you have to pay to play on this level, it seems.

My entire wardrobe is…erm…insufficient, I suppose. Skirts, sweaters and boots no longer cut it. I’m going to be dressed like an undertaker for the rest of my life, wearing dark suits, shoes with proper heels, etc… Dry cleaners and tailors are going to become my new best friend. I’m not exactly thrilled about this since I do not have the body type that supports the wearing of a suit. It’s a little distressing. Dock and I spent the day shopping for suits yesterday. I managed to find two. Just two.

I think the biggest upshot to this job is the fact that I already fully understand what I am doing, what I am dealing with and the associated mentalities. Phew.

At my other jobs, people would scream about emergencies. Mass hysteria would ensue over the slightest issue. People thought I was ambivalent about my job because I didn’t have profound reactions to documents not being signed. Sorry…but I spent six years working in a industry where a mistake could possibly equal death. Sort of makes it a bit challenging to become animated about such and such when the stakes are rather low.

Hopefully, in a week or so, when I get my groove on, I will be back in fine writing form, ready to criticize everything under the sun. Until then, forgive my silence. Between the death of Chloe Monster and the massive adjustment to my career, I’m feeling quite out of sorts.

Brain dead (encore)

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

:sighs:

The time has come for the High Priestess to return to work.  Come Tuesday, my days of living footloose and fancy free, while spending poor Dock’s money, will come to an end.

I have realized that I am not the least bit prepared.

The house is the a mess.  There are mountains of laundry to scale.  My suitcases are still sitting in the middle of the kitchen.  My plane ticket from Sweden is the most prominent item on a desk of mail requiring imminent attention.

Tomorrow, I get to play household CFO, wrangling up money, paying bills and dealing with more insurance companies.

Meanwhile, I have a long list of ignored tasks to address.

I haven’t written anything of relevance in ages.  I’m shirking my responsibilities to the phorum, Skriva and any other on-line commitments I have made.

Aie!

Couldn’t I just have another week?  Just one more week?

Please!

All in a day’s…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

…work.

If you are the daughter of my father, you know one very important thing: the value of work. Hard work. Self-sustaining work. Being unemployed does not dovetail with the way I was raised. I have had some form of paying job since I was twelve. I’m not sure about you (dear reader) but when I cannot exact all that is my foundation, I get a little…erm…a lot…depressed. Very depressed. The dark, overwhelming funk surrounds me.

True. I have battled depression for years. That’s another glorious trait from the family. Brooding depression. Historically, I have rebelled and fought against my depression through not-so-constructive ways: shopping, boozing and total escapism (I did leave the country at one point to drink my sorrows away).

So…idleness and depression are settling in. While it is very tempting to retreat to the land of literature and bed, I’m trying diligently to remain upbeat and positive. I’m still not smoking (oh…and how the scale reminds me of that!). Because I am unemployed, I’m not spending any money (rather challenging when I should be shopping for pressies for my family and friends). I have, unfortunately, had one major meltdown this past Friday. It wasn’t pretty. They never are. But I am truly determined to not let this unemployment, this idleness, get the best of me.

After one job interview this morning and a brief screening this afternoon, I have taken to the odious task of laundry. Currently, all whites are washing, drying, spinning and fluffing. I will have enough folding to keep me busy for at least an hour, I reckon. I want to talk a walk but my stomach has decided that is not going to be possible.

Then I decided to make a list of all the constructive things I plan on doing while unemployed and seeking another job. Let’s face it, I’m not really in the mood to write and I have never been disciplined enough to set aside time and write for the sake of writing. I write when the urge strikes…which is precisely why I will never write for a living. My, “I’m going to keep my chin up, be positive and productive list” includes:

~Closet Pogrom - since I cannot afford adopt a soldier, buy gifts for a needy child or make a monetary donation to a charity, I’m going to rummage through the closets (Dock’s included). Once all clothes that no longer fit or no longer worn are identified, I’m going to launder the lot and haul it to GoodWill. Charity issue resolved.

~Closet Reorg - The laundry room, coat and den closets all need some significant attention. As with my last unemployment, when I attacked the pantry and kitchen cabinets, I’m going to attack these areas with such a passion, any hyper-organized individual would blush and feel inadequate.

~Bedroom Walls - They require paint. They will be painted.

Hopefully, this list will be enough to keep me positive, focused, content, happy, productive and rewarding until I can secure employment with an organization which fosters the same warm and fuzzy feelings. The tasks are all relatively easy and manageable, allowing me to have some sense of accomplishment and self-worth. The only thing I need to do is make sure I develop a normal sleep pattern and drag myself out of bed and away from the tv.

All easier said than done, of course.

I am sloth.

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Personal

Aaaaah…first day of unemployment/sponging off bread winning honeybunny. Instead of being productive and focusing on productive things such as cleaning the house, taking a walk or anything else remotely indicative of the Protestant Work Ethic, I:

• Woke up at 11.07
• Ate breakfast: one slice of apple pie
• Swallowed a few cups of coffee
• Played Kingdom of Loathing
• Spoke with an attorney
• Forwarded a few resumes
• Completed a phone interview
• Drank more coffee
• Ate a snack: two pieces of toast
• Smoked some cigarettes
• Watched TV
• Jabbered with Shark
• Chatted with a (now) former colleague
• Found a new, guilty pleasure: www.dlist.com
• Drank more coffee

Now, I’m going to head out to Target and figure out a way to waste $1,300.00 on money socked away in a FSA. I’m thinking some friends in Sweden will be in receipt of lots of allergy and cold medicine in the very near future.

I’m seriously considering going the way of my pal, A Bowl of Stupid, and heading off to Thailand or other relatively inexpensive place for our weak greenback for a while. Not sure how Dock would feel about that but there is a large chunk of money tucked away in an IRA. While it would be entirely irresponsible and unwise to cash it in…you only live once. And…if I swim in the right ocean, I can meet the Crocodile Hunter’s stingray. Retirement wouldn’t be much of an issue then. j/k.

Visit the Phorum for more General Blather (according to Kang)