What a Day (A Big Complaint)

Yesterday was bad, not only was it my birthday, but I had to work. Sometimes I get over the fact that I'm in my late thirties and I haven't accomplished my dreams yet, and sometimes I don't. Today was one of the later days. To add to my stress, my giveadamn was busted. I don't know if you know the song but it's about a woman not giving a crap about anything and singing about it. Somedays I wake up and I don't give a damn. I don't like to cuss, but that's the best way to put it. To add even MORE to my stress, the same day I had to get up early to go to a meeting thirty minutes away from my house, to determine if I was disabled enough to get disability services. It’s like going to a confessional. You have to tell them your worst days when your instinct is to tell them how great you are doing. You can't tell them the strides you've made over the weeks and months. In my family, we jokingly call it "drooling." I have to look bad in front of these people to get the money that I need. All your sins are weighed out to determine if you’re a misfit enough to take from the taxpayers. Like salt in the wounds.

So, bad start to a bad day, but I went in to work despite the busted giveadamn and the confessional and the fact it was my birthday. I told no one and I was reminded how lonely it is to not be wished a "Happy Birthday" on your birthday. My parents wished me one but at work, I was like an island in an empty sea. But still, I go in thinking that I'll do my best. My best wasn't enough. I've recently asked for more hours to train so I can get paid a little more. A little more money could help me in the long run and help me save up for the things I want like a Switch 2 or a PC. I get to work and the sun nearly bakes me to the pavement. I have long sleeves because the company hasn't ordered my short-sleeved shirts yet. Given my luck, I'll get them by January. I strive to stay off my phone but the hour and a half free time I have ticks away at my sanity. I'm not someone who can do nothing; I have to have some type of shiny keys flailed in front of me to keep my interest. But I try to find things to do and my sup seems to be impressed. Which is good because I've made a bad impression on her earlier. Her honey-sweet soft voice drives me crazy. I've never met someone with such a breathy voice before. I thought people found those voices sexy, I, apparently, don't. She's constantly checking up on me, a fate I earned for being careless, but is still annoying to the point I want to quit. I press on through the day and I make it to the end where I'm cleaning dishes for the residents.

Then my bad habit rears its ugly head. When I'm washing dishes, I sit down and look at my phone while the dishwasher is working. It relaxes me after rushing full plates around for an hour to be able to sit down and decompress a bit. But my boss catches me on my chair with my phone in my hand and berates me in this sickly, sweet way that makes me almost grind a molar to dust. So now I know I can't have a break after the dinner rush. Keep in mind, that I've been taking this break for three years and for it suddenly to be snatched away from me is an incomprehensible wrong. The change in itself is already a wrong, I don't do well with changes, but to "catch" me being lax on the job when I've dedicated so much to the company is to add on to their sins. 

Let's add another detriment: a write up. A month ago, I was asked to come in an extra day, an act that tired me out to the point that I must have missed some of my duties. The day shift reported on how I left the kitchen and I received a write up for trying to help out the company. I should have gotten praised but instead I got a kick in the teeth. I livid to the point of almost going home. To my knowledge, I didn't leave anything unfinished in the kitchen that day, but what do I know? Maybe I did miss something because I was too tired from working five days in a row to care.

That brings us back to yesterday where I'm being yelled at by a sugary-sweet voice about how I could be cleaning the tables or moping the floors. Does my supervisor really think I don't realize that fact? I just wanted to take a break to keep my back from hurting. I don't need an hour, just five to fifteen minutes. But she's on me anyway so I have to get up in shame and get back to work. I know what I'm doing, I've done it for almost four years. I don't need an upstart to come in and tell me what I already know how to do. 

To be honest, I don't think I'm cut out for work. I get stressed, I misunderstand people's intentions, and I get hurt physically, mentally, and spiritually. There's a part of me, the autistic part, that just wants to have fun. If I could get paid to play on my phone all day, I'd take it. But there's a non-autistic part of me that wants to work. I want to be part of society and contribute. I get lax because my coworkers are friendly. I sometimes forget that you can't slack off or be too friendly with those "above" you. I don’t' really see anyone above me. I see people on the same level, ya'll annoy me. 

In fact, I tend to forget the names of people who annoy me as a way of self-preservation. I guess that's why I don't know many of my coworker's names; they irritate me. In my work cycle, I tend to build habits both good and bad like sitting down in front of the dish washer. Sometimes, I need someone to tell me if I'm doing right or wrong. I've got two big issues: I don't know how to find something to do and I build bad habits. But I have a new supervisor who comes in and rips that habit away from me, and it feels like I'm back at my first job, Panera. I had a lot of trouble at Panera, I was hired to only wash dishes but the new supervisors got on me for not interacting with the customers, something I loathed. It got to the point that the disability company that helped me get my job was called in and my future was discussed, in length, about what could be done to help me. Keep in mind that this was over a decade ago so Autism was still a "new" disorder. I kept my job but I was happy to leave and go to college a year later. 

Jumping back to yesterday, I should reiterate that I don't like change because it hurts. I mean almost physically, like ripping your skin off. I remember a song about a guy who claims he makes himself sick and he gets on his own nerves. Years late I understand that song because I do the same. My instinct is to jump on myself when I mess up and label these autistic moments as "laziness." It's not laziness but just the way I'm built. It's like I need someone to keep on my back the whole time I'm working, a fact that shames me. I just turned a year older, I SHOULD know better. I SHOULD be better. But I'm not. And I don't know if I ever will be.

So, I've just finished talking to my therapist about what to do next, and we've come up with a plan. I need to make my needs known to this supervisor or I'll risk getting into more trouble. And the distractions? They've got to go one way or another. I can do that. I'll fail at first but I'll try again. In the meantime, I'm going to look for another job. This is also difficult because I can't work too much, and I can't make too much money or I'll be off of the little disability services I do have. So now I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I just found out that one of the jobs I applied for, at a library, decided to go with someone else. I've been applying to the library for years but I've always been turned down. I don't know what to do. 

Despite all this, I'm still trying to press forwards. I have my ambition to be a writer, and I have enough pills inside of me to make the gloominess go away, at least for today. I have a few friends who care about me, and family that loves me. I'll be honest, some days it feels like their love won't save me. I think to myself that maybe life isn't worth the effort. So, I try to find something to laugh at and I try again. At least I have laughter because I laugh a lot when I'm with my therapist. Sorry to ramble, I just needed to get this off my chest.