But Weight!

I’ve had two significant failures in my life.  The first was the end of my 13 year marriage to my first husband W.  Of course with hindsight, I know now that was actually the greatest moment of our entire relationship- walking out of the courthouse divorced and with my maiden name back.

The other failure has been my weight.  It’s the more obvious one, since everyone who meets me knows I’m overweight- I can't hide that no matter how I stand or what I wear.  Not everyone can look at me and know that I made the mistake of marrying a complete dickhead when I was in my early 20’s.  Most of the people in my current circle only know me as J’s doting other half.

J and I are both overweight and always have been.  Not horribly obese, we can still shop at a regular clothing store.  But we are both near the top limit of the plus-size sections.  Knowing that I can still squeeze into a 2X is really of little comfort to me.  I am not proud of it.  Even if I’m not buying clothes at the specialty shops like Lane Bryant, I am still very much plus-size!!

J has actually lost a good bit of weight since we met, and I have gained a great deal.  In the 9 years we’ve been together, he’s dropped 60 pounds without even trying, and I have gained the same amount!  I feel like when we were dating, it was false advertising- he dated a hot size 10 girlfriend and ended up with a grouchy old size 18/20 wife.

It seems to be at the core of everything that is wrong with me- fatigue, body aches, irritability, awful self-esteem, low sex drive, anxiety, feelings of hopelessness, anger at myself.  I know it’s foolish, but I think to myself:  If I lost weight I would have a better job that I loved.  If I lost weight I would want to make love every night.  If I lost weight my house would be cleaner and everything around me would be more organized.  If I lost weight I would be happy and carefree all of the time.  If I lost weight the world would fall into my lap and life would be easy.  Life would be perfect.

But I know the reality is, the only thing losing weight would do for me, is improve my physical wellbeing and maybe just a little of my emotional angst.  It won’t cure all of my ills- it won’t bring me a better salary or find me a nicer boss, it won't magically clean all my toilets or pull the weeds in my garden- but it seems as though it is always at the root of all of my issues.  There are a lot of things in my life that suck, that are out of my control, like all the crap at work right now.  But my weight is 100% my doing, and changing it- living a healthier lifestyle and making healthier choices- is completely in my hands.  Yet it has always been a struggle for me, and the one area where I feel like a big loser--just not at the scales.

Still, even knowing all of that, the needle on that scale never budges…

MISS GEE

I Love My Job

I really truly do feel deep sympathy for the folks who have lost their job over the last few years.  I’ve been unemployed before, and it sucks.  Nothing made me feel more worthless, than not having a decent job.   But I’ve never been unemployed under the dark shadow of such a bleak economy, when finding a new job was unlikely to happen quickly enough.  And some of those times, my unemployment was by choice- to move to another town, to go back to college.  Sometimes, losing a job was not by my doing.  Yes, I’ve been forced to take jobs that I didn’t particularly love- like cleaning fish tanks and animal cages at a small pet store making minimum wage and with no health care benefits- when I was in my 30’s and not as a teenager.

That is why I feel so damn ungrateful to be complaining about my current job.  I know there are people out there who would throw me in front of a speeding bus to have my job, any job.   I’ve managed to survive two large layoffs at my company, the first one back in 2001, and another one in 2011.  Both times our corporate offices came sweeping through and decimated our finance departments, across all 60+ offices throughout the country.  I would like to think I am still here, because I am a great employee and a hard worker, who is dedicated to the company and to the job.  And perhaps that is my downfall.

In 2011 they were kind enough to offer very generous severance packages, and in hindsight I wish I had taken it and quietly slipped out the front doors.  We all had to fight for our jobs, and I chose to dig in my heels to keep mine.  

Our department went from 23 down to about 14.  It does not seem like that much of a difference, but after cutting the “people”, they did not cut any of the work.  Those of us who remained, had to absorb the duties of the employees who were gone.  And, on top of assigning more work to each of us, they cut our hours drastically.  Now I am doing the job of two people, and working about 10-15 hours less a week.  And every week corporate takes something else off their plates and moves it on down the ladder to us.  It is a nightmare with nearly unattainable expectations.  Every day I have to choose what to work on and what to complete, because doing it all in the time I am allowed to work, is not possible.  I hate that I have turned into that person who has to say “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get that project done, I don’t have enough time/I'm too busy.”

And I have confidential insider information (from J) that things are about to get worse, when we buy up one of our larger competitors 2-3 months from now.  We will be inheriting their customers and most of their sales force, which will probably increase my current work at a rate I am loathe to contemplate.  I currently am responsible for about 1,000+ customer accounts, and have almost 200 salespeople to answer to.  Yes, just me.  I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like for me when we get dozens more salespeople and hundreds of new customers.  I will not be given any extra time, and they will not bring anyone else in to help.  They will just dump more work on me.  I am already at my breaking point, and I worry about what is to come.

The job has sucked my soul dry, every day I feel beat down.  I’ve never had a job where the working conditions set me up for failure before I can even start my day.  I just can’t keep up with the pace and workload any longer, none of us can.  I am in my late 40’s, and I’m one of the youngest ones in my department.  I actually sprint to the copy machine, to the rest room or coworkers’ offices, to the mail room, just to save time for actual work.  And after 11 years at this company- a company I thought I would stay at until retirement- I wake up every morning wishing I could somehow get out of it.  And not just because of the work load, but because of my new supervisor- but that’s for another post on another day.

I come home at night, after an added 40-minute commute, and I am so emotionally and physically wiped out, I can barely hold up my end of the conversation at the dinner table.  But, I am still a dutiful wife, and when I do get home I go about the business of running a household and taking care of a husband- I do that with great joy and I do my best to push beyond any fatigue.  And yes, J is an amazing man who gladly helps with chores around the house- even the kitchen!  Before I can turn around, the night is over, and I go to bed dreading the next work day.

But I have a job, that’s the important part, right?  No matter how much I hate it or how miserable it makes me….right??

MISS GEE