My remarkable week has come to an end, and I'm going to both miss and it and slam the door on its ass as soon as it's over the threshold.

Wednesday we never got to finish at the IVF doctor's office as the IVF Doctor was running late, and we had an appointment to talk to a bank about a mortgage for the Blackberries. We had to rush off, not all issues done, and although I hoped we could get back to the hospital, it was not to be. Instead it was endless time spent filling in forms at the bank to get a mortgage.

We're in pretty good shape for that financially-we pay off our credit cards every month, we have a large and healthy savings account, we have no current debt other than Angus' current mortgage on Ovaltine and we have no red flags in our credit history.

The problems are that I basically have no credit in this country-as I have no loans out and have only been here for 18 months, I have no credit (and they don't count my monthly donations to the WSPA, Dogs' Trust, and the League Against Cruel Sports as credit. Some people have no heart) and that we have moved around a fair bit and both of us have foreign addresses in our home history within the past 5 years. Add on the fact that Angus has been in his new job for two weeks and we don't look like a good bet (however the bank doesn't seem to mind about our foreign addresses and they did note he'd been in his previous job for 20 years). Despite this, it all looks ok for a mortgage.

But Wednesday was rough for other reasons. The cat that Angus and his ex-wife had was put to sleep. They had to leave it with his Mum when they moved to Sweden, and they couldn't reclaim the cat after their son was born as he was wildly allergic to pet hair (and still is, but tends to be ok around my cats). We didn't take the cat back when we moved here as by then she'd spent most of her life with Angus' Mum, and so that was home. The cat was quite old-16-and when she was diagnosed with an inoperable malignant tumor she had to be put down.

And then Angus had word that a few things are not ok back in Sweden with his kids, and it's been many sleepless nights for him since then, as well as a great deal of depression. We are proceeding with caution, and trying to figure out what to do. Suffice to say, it's not a happy environment.

Work-wise, things are a whole new version of hell. Wednesday night the phone calls from work kept coming in-they continued in so late that it bothered Angus, and I felt like a deer in the headlights. The work is crippling lately-Tuesday I started work at 530 am and kept going until about 10:00 at night. On the train home from work and my therapist, I was hoping for a quiet moment, but last minute I was forced to join two conference calls-one on my mobile, one on my Blackberry, with my PC balanced on my knees.

I have over 300 unread emails-I had been trying to manage it-I'll keep it below 100 unread, I'll keep it below 200, I'll keep it...oh, fuck it. My voice mail count is now 28 waiting voice mails. People have taken to texting me as it's the best way to get an answer. Phone calls come in to late in the evening, and on average the seniors in the company are calling me around 10 times a day.

It got so bad on Wednesday that I had a minor breakdown. I was trying to manage a meeting in which my manager's manager started railroading some of my team and I kept trying to reel him in. My phone kept ringing on the side as we had people arriving for the meeting that I had to pick up from reception. Within 30 minutes I had 8 voice mails, my manager was shouting, people reached maximum stress, and I saw three 3MB mails marked "Immediate Attention-Urgent" come into my inbox one after another. It was all too much, and when James Brown's It's a Mans Mans Mans World ring tone on my phone rang again, I snapped.

Without thinking, I picked up my phone and threw it against the wall. With a blam! it hit the wall and I saw black plastic go flying.

Luckily, my beautiful phone survived, as I would have been gutted if it had broken (note to self: that's one durable little fucker). I also felt incredibly stupid for having snapped like that, as well as regretful that my team saw me break. The rest of the meeting went ok, I tried to lighten up and not show anyone that I was still stressed, but once I'd left, I got an awful lot of "Are you ok, can I do anything?" text messages.

No, you can't do anything but I wish to Christ you could. I have the CEO calling me. I have once again wound up in a position of being right in the line of fire for something the company's future "depends on" and I couldn't feel any less cool about it if I tried.

A small part of me wonders if I snapped because the bottle top had been opened by my therapist on Tuesday. He'd asked me what I thought my biggest issues were, and I told him that I'm an imposter amongst the living. That things hurt too much. That I can't figure out emotions. That I've spent years battling a river of rage.

And in talking to him, maybe I started opening the hatch to that rage, that rage which has boiled so deep and for so long.

So today I have conference calls throughout the day and ending in the evening. We need to see the solicitor about surveys for the new house. I have many mails of "urgent info" I have to put together, and my to-do list makes me break down and cry. I know I was busy before, but this? No one has the bandwidth for this. No one.

But what I'm going to do today is this-do most (but not all) of the calls. Write most (but not all) of the mails. Take a bath. Finish reading The Historian. See the solicitor. Spend time making sure Angus knows I love him and am grateful for his support. Buy the new Sims expansion pack.

And I'm going to try to just breathe and not drown in it all.

My week is over-high points include the house of our dreams, a great therapist, continuing the IVF path and a candle sputtering out in the memory of my babies.

Low points include interrupted IVF visit, Angus' troubles with his home, the death of his cat, the reminder of the loss of my babies and so much work I can't believe it.

At least I changed my ring tone, so I am much less likely to bung it against a wall. The American Beauty theme now pipes out of it, and it's much more relaxing. I have also given in to the lock-yourself-in-the-bathroom-for-crying-jag. After all, there is crying in baseball.

Thank God it's Friday has never had a truer meaning for me. It's T minus 8 hours to drinking. Anyone want to raise a glass with me?

-H.

PS-This and this made me further cry like a baby. Please, if you haven't, please donate to the ASPCA or HSUS. There's a link on my sidebar-time is running is running out.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:47 AM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
Post contains 1315 words, total size 7 kb.

1 Seriously, there's NO crying in baseball That's one of the funniest scenes in movie history. Sorry you had such a rough week.

Posted by: Solomon at September 16, 2005 01:18 PM (k1sTy)

2 Actually, my rule as a coach has always been that there's no crying until after you've made the play. Having completed the play and thrown the runner out by half a step, you may now go into the dugout and cry. But not for too long. You're batting this inning. I will definitely raise a glass or 5 tonight.

Posted by: ~Easy at September 16, 2005 01:47 PM (NL+Vn)

3 Ugh... I'm sorry you've had such a stressful week. Finish your book and cuddle with Angus. It might not solve anything, but it will definitely make you feel better.

Posted by: amber at September 16, 2005 02:51 PM (VZEhb)

4 Fuck glasses. With a work situation that went personal to deal with, and for the Friday cherry being told that my job will not reimburse any of the extortionate fees to get my working visa to oh WORK for them... Pass me the damn bottle so I can slam this weeks ass with the door on the way out with you. So many congrats on the therapist, the house, the IVF, the bunging the phone and being you. Serious H. Love you!

Posted by: stinkerbell at September 16, 2005 03:56 PM (ZznPv)

5 As my boss always says when his emails get to be too much - I think it's time for a purge. Seriously. Every once in a while, when it gets to be too much, he blames a computer malfunction and deletes all unread messages. His theory? If it's REALLY important, they'll call or send it again. Hope your weekend is full of relaxation, frosty beverages, and great sex. Take care of you!

Posted by: amy t. at September 16, 2005 04:01 PM (zPssd)

6 that's a damn good idea. Turn it all off, get in the bath, and blame it on digital. Enjoy your book.

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 16, 2005 07:05 PM (kXoP1)

7 I shall raise a glass of sparkling water/grape juice to you and your amazing/shitty week, my dear. And whatever it takes to keep you on a somewhat even keel is absolutely, positively necessary, love. Really. You have quite a lot on your plate. So if it's a crying jag that will help purge the toxins, so be it. Don't ever be too busy to take care of yourself. You're the only Helen we've got!! One last thought: There's nothing wrong with venting that rage, babe. So your team saw you lose it. Big deal. They also saw you pull it back together. And what? They're FIVE? You've been FAR more patient than I would have been. Hang in there. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at September 16, 2005 07:08 PM (nwEQH)

8 You may be onto something with the "therapy" being a catalyst for losing your cool in the meeting. There was an episode of Cheers where Woody says back in Hanover they didn't talk about their problems, they just forced 'em deep down where they can't do any harm, and when you think you can't take it anymore, you just push 'em down further and harder. And Frasier (the psychologist) says, "Tick, tick, tick" indicating that Woody's a time bomb. It may have lost something in the translation. But seriously, I can see the benefit of discussing one's problems; but I also see the benefit of not dwelling on them too much. I wonder sometimes if therapy doesn't get people to dwell too much on something they shouldn't. Is that possible?

Posted by: Solomon at September 16, 2005 07:35 PM (k1sTy)

9 Every so often we need to throw a phone, punch something (preferably not someone), scream our heads off, or just otherwise rebel against the machine. Sometimes it's better to take back our lives (even if only for a day) and say, "Today I'm going to do what I want, when I want, the way I want, on my own time, and if you don't like it FUCK YOU!!!" The world won't end because of a few unreturned emails or phone calls. They'll just have to live with it. Hope the situation with the kids turns out okay.

Posted by: diamond dave at September 16, 2005 09:59 PM (bgi/D)

10 I, too, have been guilty of the "the computer ate my e-mail" excuse. Hey! It's technology! It messes up! Take time for YOU, honey...just YOU. If you don't give yourself time, you won't be good to anyone. Don't worry about the temper tantrum. For God's sake, you mean you're HUMAN! SHOCK! AWE! They'll get over it. Give Angus a hug... hope all works out with his kids. Try to have a recouperative weekend.

Posted by: sue at September 17, 2005 02:19 PM (+5ORu)

11 I once had a boss who gave me projects almost hourly. When it got up to 17, I said, If you don't give me anymore for the next three days, I can do all of them. He said ok, and an hour later gave me another one. I threw away all the notes I had on the first 17 and started over. He never said a word. Try it.

Posted by: Old Horsetail Snake at September 17, 2005 03:48 PM (acLa9)

12 I'd like to offer up one small clarification, if I may. Angus' troubles with an important part of his life, to be sure, should be on the list. But Angus has you as his 'home'. Wavy days, lumpy nights on ocassion, perhaps. But where home is? That's where troubles go to dissipate. You should add that to the positive side of the scale, m'dear.

Posted by: Jennifer at September 17, 2005 08:59 PM (1X5Jq)

13 I got a new boss in last week. His priorities - you're in the building, WALK UPSTAIRS and talk to me. Or call me on the phone. E-mail is his last choice for communication. And I've grown to love it. E-mail is really just for covering your butt, not communicating if you're all in the same building. (Of course, I'm in a much smaller office.) So I grab my cup of java, run upstairs, he sits in his leather chair, I sit on the sofa and we talk and he takes notes. I'm liking it - alot! Good luck, I agree with the purge advice. Or else start correcting e-mail. Send back with "Why did you send this? We've already discussed. Please stop."

Posted by: Oda Mae at September 18, 2005 10:29 AM (lgv+3)

14 I'll raise that glass with you... as long as 20 more follow.

Posted by: Rebecca at September 18, 2005 06:56 PM (y9DTe)

Hide Comments | Add Comment