I Am Not OK

 Just a tiny disclaimer; I am posting this out of order as well. Just trying to sort my head out before I have to face the world tomorrow and head back to work.

Let’s be honest, it is no secret that I’m struggling at the moment, between work and my mom, my ability to cope has been more then pushed. So, when my mom’s latest test results came back, and her function was down another 3%, I broke.

It’s funny because I’ve always kidded that I’m a sane crazy person, and that’s what this has been. I can see the warning signs and I know what I am doing is unhealthy, but, the will to do anything else just isn’t there.

Simple things like eating; I’ve eaten gummy bears and a packet of vegi chips in 4 days. I have food in, I could make soup in 2 minutes. Yet I walk to the kitchen, decided fuck it, and get back into bed. I don’t have the will or want to make anything.

Personal care is another thing that’s gone out the window. I haven’t washed my hair this whole 4 off. I haven’t done any skin care in weeks. I’ve been wearing next to no makeup, if any when I am out of the house. I know that doesn’t seem major, but given my collection this is very out of character.

I have also withdrawn socially. I haven’t wanted to do anything this 4 off other than lay in my bed. I have done, maybe 5000 steps in 4 days. I haven’t answered any messages, taken any calls, I haven’t even opened most the messages on my phone. I just haven’t wanted to deal with people.

The ridiculous part is I know cutting myself off is horrible. The night I found out about my mom’s results, in the wee hours I was laying in bed shaking, in floods of tears, really not in a great place; I picked my phone up and started typing, I was trying to distract myself.  Typing and deleting, picking stupidly long words that can’t be spelled. Not really thinking, I did this on Steve’s Snapchat, forgetting Snapchat tells you when someone is typing, he must have spotted this and called me out for it. Rather than answer he’s what’s up questions, I chose to go for a walk, in the rain, in my pjs at 5am. The sad part is, I didn’t even dry off when I got home, I took my shoes off and got straight back into bed soaking wet. All that rather than try and reach out. To be fair, I am sure he wouldn’t have given a fuck, nor would I have blamed him. He’s just a baby and my mental breakdowns is my issue not anyone else’s.

I know none of this is ok, but I have made some smart decisions as well; I’ve cut out drinking and caffeine. I am writing, not posting everything, but getting it off my chest. I am trying to be smart in where I funnel my limited energy into and if I need to stay and bed and cry it out so be it. It’s not ok right now, but it will be.

Anyways, I need to go and sleep because despite spending most of my days off in bed, sleep hasn’t really been happening. I won’t leave you with a question this post, so just stay and play safe my friends.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

Late Night Rabblings

Just a tiny disclaimer; I am posting this out of order. I need to sort my head out and this is the only healthy way I know how to do that. I could schedule this to post this later, but I’d rather get it done and gone.

When it comes to my work life, I thrive when I’m left the hell alone. I like to come in do my job and go home. I’m not interested in the ass kissing, ladder climbing, attention grabbing. I’m happiest when my name is not in management’s mouth and they forget I exist. This is why I work nights and its even the reason I write my handovers in a certain way, unlike most, I actually hide what I do overnight. I don’t want management knowing how good I am. In all my reviews I am called the steadiest night operator in the company, and in my book that’s prefect. That should be a recipe for a stress-free life.

Then some genius had the bright idea of taking our nice flat management structure and turning it into a hierarchy with almost as many layers as there are people working there. Which means, instead of dodging 1 manager, who is based 2 hours from where I actually work. I now have to dodge 2 managers and a dumb ass supervisor who has been on an ego trip since he got promoted.

Now, as much as I rather keep my name out of managers mouth’s, I am not one be to walked over either and sadly my company has a habit of doing that if you let them. Since I’m not looking to climb the ladder, I have nothing to lose by my standing my ground and this has a habit of pissing off middle management. I’ve read my contract and T&C I know where I stand, and they can be damned if they think I can be bullied or blackmailed into anything that isn’t in there.

That brings us to the root of the issues, I don’t do overtime or at least not a lot of it. Normally this is because when my ducks are in row, I do acting, improv, I was doing stand up last year, I have a life outside of work. Right now, I’m not doing it because my mom is unwell, and my life is not remotely together. Mentally I can’t cope with overtime, I can barely cope period right now. I am a damn zombie just trying to survive and I’m not doing a good job at that.

Baring in mind my manager knows my mom is unwell; I haven’t told him, but another operator has. He has been trying to push OT for months. I’ve stood my ground and refused. As a result of me refusing he has cancelled a week’s holiday I had booked. Because that didn’t make me back down, he then refused a second lot of my holiday after yelling at me because I had holiday days not booked and then booked me a week’s holiday I didn’t want. And because of “my unwillingness” to do over time I’ve now been temporarily relocated to another depot (that is in my contract in case you’re wondering).

I’ve spoken to Steve about this and he thinks I should go to HR and report the manager. I just don’t think I have that fight in me at the minute. Plus, my gut is telling me if I go to HR I will find myself permanently relocated to Antarctica. I can’t go to my area manager because my manager was the best man at his wedding. So, I am left with suck it up or find a new job or, I guess, marry a penguin.

I just don’t know what I want to do or what I should do or if I should do anything. I’m all out of fight, I am all out of strength, I am all out of will.  All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry, all I want is a hug and someone to tell me it’s all going to be ok. But that’s not really how life works is it? We have to dry our tears, put on a smile and carry on, praying we don’t fall apart in public.

Anyways, I am going to go and pull myself together because I don’t have time for a breakdown today. But before I go I leave the question with you, suck it up, HR or new job? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. And as always, stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

Don’t Settle For Less Than A Steve

Forgetting the fact, the whole Steve thing is morally reprehensible. It has proven to be a good learning opportunity and even seems to have facilitated some self-growth.

This was never more evident to me, then the other night at work. Both Steve and Mr. Block were messaging me at the same time and both conversations were eerily similar but handle in two very different manners.

I had sent both a picture of me at my desk, the image was cleavage heavy, however, I am cleavage heavy so unless I’m in a turtle neck that’s always an issue. Steve’s response was to ask me to remove the filter because “I don’t need it”. While, Mr. Block’s response was to ask me to get my tits fully out. It’s safe to say only one of them received any further images.

Now I am aware both of these gentlemen were after the same thing. Neither of them had pure intentions. Their motivation was more pictures to perv at. But, the old adage is true, it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. And Steve is masterful at this.

Steve is basically a horny genius and he really should consider writing a book on his skills. He has mastered the technique of building you up to get the end result he wants. At this point, I can’t tell if this is something he does consciously or subconsciously and to be honest, I don’t want to know.

I’ve gone substantially further with him, digitally speaking, than with any other guys and the reason is simple. He builds me up, he makes me feel good, sexy, cute, he gives and as a result I want to give back. I want to make him feel that same way. Unlike a lot of other guys, who are all about them, who want to know what you’re going to do to them; he’s all about what he’s going to do for you. It’s a nice change.

Motivation aside; the technique is flawless, and the end result is a win, win. He gets off and my confidence is back, and I feel better in myself.

All that said, he is also a genuinely nice guy, which certainly does help the charm factor. He has quickly become one of my favourite humans to talk to at work. It has nothing to do with the flirting, although that is a nice touch, but he is a calm influence and a good voice of reason in a very stressful environment.

Just recently, I was having an issue at work and he the one I turned to not the work BFF. He was so sweet and went out of his way to make sure I was ok, and he offered some incredibly useful advice. I felt so looked after and in such safe hands, I haven’t felt the need to mention it to the work BFF at all.

The issue I have now is when I compare the likes of Mr. Block to Steve (not apples to apple, I know) it doesn’t balance out. Knowing how I feel with Steve, I’m left wondering why Mr. Block’s approach is acceptable. Why should I consider settling for less? I shouldn’t be left questioning things after a conversion with a guy. I shouldn’t be left questioning myself. I am something special, if not to him, to someone.  And if he doesn’t see that or doesn’t make me feel that way, fuck him. Nobody and I mean nobody, should settle for less than a Steve.

Anyways, I am going to go and enjoy the time rest of the time I have off. This post took way longer to write than it should have. But, for I go I have this question for you; What makes you feel special? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. And as always, stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch  

xoxo

I Told Me So

When you have been a blogger as long as I have (8 years here, 6 on the previous site) sooner or later you’ll prove yourself to be an idiot and won’t even realise it. This is going to be one of those stories, so stay with me until the end.

A few days ago, out the blue my old work husband popped up again, last seen in May for anyone who is keeping score. He sent me a message explained he’d been having family issues and that’s why he hadn’t not been in touch and asking if I was still up for meeting for drinks. I said sure, why not. It would be nice to finally meet after all these years.

Then something happened, during this friendly conversation, this meet up suddenly went from a meet up to an actual date.  And in this moment, I learned something about myself. I don’t like the word “date”.  Mainly because I don’t date, I haven’t for years. I don’t like dating, it’s stupid. Something just about the word makes me nervous and instantly makes me want to cancel. I know this is stupid, but I don’t care.

However, I did talk myself in off the ledge, and I decided to keep the date. At the end of the day, I am a blogger and material is hard to come by. What is the worst that can happen right? At least that was my decision.

I was prompted while writing the post, you’ll hopefully see next week, to look back to through my old blogs. I was certain I had written about the work husband in the past and wanted his “name” for consistency purposes. After looking back through a lot of posts, I found it, boy did I find.

November 2014 was where he was hiding. What was his name you ask? Mr. Block. Anyone remember that prick? To honest, I didn’t until I reread everything. This is where the whole I am idiot comes in.

Frankly, I wasn’t having great feelings towards this date anyways for reasons to be discussed next week. There were signs were there. But, it stings so much more when it’s your own words telling you, your choice of men is horrible and clearly, it’s not improving.

This brings us nicely to the question of the blog; Do you let bygones by bygones or do you heed the warning of the past? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. And as always, stay, and play, safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch  

xoxo

Understanding A Blogger

It’s a rarity to find someone who understands a blogger, mainly because we don’t tend to understand ourselves half the time. I’ve often said, I don’t know what I am truly thinking until I read it back. And to find someone who is understanding of that process is damn near impossible.

If you’ve been here a while you’ll know, I’ve had my fair share of blog related drama over the years. A couple of lawsuits (all won, by the way), a couple breakups and more than a few fights. Blogging is not something everyone can handle nor understand, and I get it. The likes of Mr. X couldn’t even handle my blog sometimes, and he’s a blogger himself. Which are all reasons why I tend to keep my URL to myself.

Then enters Steve, who has challenged all my preconceived notions of someone being able to understand the process. And to be honest, I’m a little pissed off about it. Which I am positive isn’t a normal response, but I gave up on normal years ago.

If you read my last post you know Steve and I had minor issue a few days ago (a few weeks ago by the time you’re reading this). The following day he wanted to know what set me off and why I was so upset. At this point I explained, I needed to write first, then I’d explain everything. And to my horror he ok with this. He actually understood where I was coming from. What the hell?

He actually managed to explain my logic to me on the matter in a better way than I could. He totally understood what was going on and he fine with it. If he doesn’t get mad at what he reads here; he might actually be the perfect man. And clearly that pisses me off.

Allow me to explain that one; I am pissed off that for years I’ve made excuses for douchebag men who couldn’t handle the blog, when clearly the skill set to cope is out there. I’m pissed off that more than once I’ve settled for guys who couldn’t cope, when I shouldn’t have. And I’m pissed up that this gem that can cope is wasted on a non-blogger. 

Apparently, I am just pissed off, but what else is new eh? But as always, I’ll be ok. And at least now I know it’s possible to find someone who isn’t a man child about the whole blogging thing. So, who knows, maybe there is hope I’ll find someone someday. Personally, my money is still on 700 cats, but you never know.

Anyways, you beautiful bastards, I am going to go and try to shift my hangover. But before I leave you I have this question; what skill or quality have you given up trying to find in a partner? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. And as always, stay, and play, safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

Lets Get Drunk

It’s been a long time since we’ve done a drunken blog and I figure it’s about time we do it again. Allow me to give the normal disclaimer: This post will be written and edited drunk. Once I have sobered up, this post will not be touched again. I will of course respond to comment and all that goodness, but there will be no editing to what has been written. Now that that’s been said; Let’s drink.

This drunken post is going to be about Steve. Steve is, of course, the gentleman with the pregnant wife, I’ve been swapping inappropriate messages with for the past month. Once again, I am fully aware I am going to hell. I am good with it.

Steve was meant to be safe; he is after all a married man. Workplace flirting, as a rule, is a great confidence booster. And I’ll admit it, after everything, I needed it.  Not that I was lacking confidence but, the best way I can describe it is, I have confidence, but it’s lacking self-assurance. It’s a fragile confidence if you will. I’m not 100% happy with the way I look at the minute and I’m not totally happy with me, as a whole either, so bare that in mind as this story goes onwards.

Last night, I was swapping inappropriate messages with Steve, trying to get, for lack of a better word, a rise out of him, when he got a rise out of me. I had just sent him a picture that I wasn’t comfortable with, but I knew he’d like. And, instead of a normal response. He fired back asking for a different picture, one my insecurity wouldn’t allow. And then he wouldn’t drop it, he was like a dog with a boner. I didn’t mind so much he asked, but the pressure was unneeded, and I didn’t like it.

Considering he was meant to be a safe option, it didn’t feel safe. It didn’t feel good, It felt like I was a teen dating a prick and I am far too old to be dealing with that shit. And then, of course, he got an attitude with me because I was upset. Like I’m the bad guy in this. I know a lot of it is my own issues. Which is why I didn't debate any of this with him at the time, but still dude don't be a selfish horn dog.

Anyways, my tequila is not holding its buzz so I am going to end this here. But before I do, I have this question for you; What do you do when you’re pushed outside your comfort zone? Shut down? Yell? Let me know in the comments below and as always, stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

Missing Little Voice

You know that little voice inside your head that is meant to stop you from doing stupid things that and sooner or later you’ll regret? That little buzz kill that ruins all your fun? That little kill joy that stops you becoming a meme on the internet. Yeah, I think mine quit. Or, at the very least has gone on an extended holiday and not left a forwarding address.

I know I am partly to blame. I should have listened to that voice more, made his job easier. But, I didn’t and now his absence is leading to some, frankly, sketchy decisions on my part. I never thought I’d say this, but I want him back. Preferably, before sketchy turns into dicey.

What has this little voice failed to prevent me from doing you ask? Let’s call it an inappropriate exchange of messages with a non-single male. A very non-single male. A married male. A married male whose wife is about to have a baby. Yeah, I’m going to hell.

For what it’s worth, I swear on my vibrator it started off innocent. It truly did. And then, there was a line, and it got crossed and subsequently got tap danced over in a bra and lace panties. Yeah, yeah, I am going to hell, I know.

 I know what you’re thinking, and in this case you’re wrong. I do not have an issue with unavailable men. It’s actually a pet peeve of mine and something I vented about just a few months ago. This was a judgment call failure and something that little voice should have been there to stop.

Allow me to add this minor caveat before I continue; I don’t know what their relationship make up is. There could open relationship deal there or a freedom I don’t know about. I don’t have nor have enquired about that information. I make all my moral calls based on what would upset me in a relationship, not on the rules of someone else’s relationship.

This whole thing started innocently enough, with a little work place flirting. No big deal, everyone flirts. It’s a thing you do to remind yourself not to kill everyone when you finally snap at your desk one day. It then progressed to harmless snapchat messages and pictures. Still firmly in the I am not going to hell category at this point.

Then there was a snap that changed everything, and it wasn’t sent by me. I’ll leave the nature of that snap to your imagination, but from there things got less innocent.

There were some sexual exchanges, that may have leaned toward sexting and some pictures that, well still were leaning PG-13 probably weren’t in good taste. And were definitely not appropriate to be sending a married man. All this from a girl who was once dumped for not doing this sort of thing. Go fucking figure, eh?

I don’t get it, my moral compass appears to be lost and that damn little voice seems to be living it up in Hawaii well I’m planning a tour of hell. And, to be honest, at the moment, I don’t even care.

I’m not going to leave you with a question of the blog, because I predict I’ll get plenty of questions and comments without me prompting you. So, as always, stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo