Hey, you.
I remember the first time someone said that to me as a greeting (looking at you, Syphon). It was years ago and it made me bristle a bit because that's what Jill's dad called Tim on Home Improvement, "Hey, You," only he meant in the sense that Tim was not worth acknowledging on a personal level and Syphon did not mean it this way, so the bristling was short lived. I use it all the time now myself. Anyway, stories aside...
This first weekend/two day break has been a strange one for me. I was able to look back over the whole work week and kind of readjust my internal settings and it was all plain weird. I will be dumping everything I can here, so be forewarned, this will be long and pointless but it's unfortunately part of my "working through things" routine.
Tuesday I mostly covered in that other thread so I'll skip to Wednesday. Wednesday morning, I spent in Children's, helping out with a craft (fingerpainting) and learning a bit more of the computer software. After lunch, I shifted over to Circulation to learn the ropes there. It was not as intuitive as I would have liked and although the woman who was/is training me there tries to be very patient and answers my questions, she has worked there for over 20 years and as much as she tries to hide her impatience at my taking time to learn this stuff, it shows. For every mistake I'd correct the next time I did the same process, I'd make an entirely new one. For all the computer stuff I learned, there were a million rules/policies I didn't know.
Wednesday afternoon, when helping one patron, another got impatient with how long it was taking me and so when it was his turn and I was done helping him, I asked if there was anything else I could do for him. He replied, "Yeah. You can learn how to do your job by the time I come back." Or something very similar; it's been days, I forget exact wording. I explained to him I was new, he said something about him figuring as much if I was so slow, and then he left. This upset me more than I should have let it but that's one of my big fears...that I'll be unable to do the job and then what? After an epic fail by that one Pwebber, I left my room and decided to talk to my mom instead. She reminded me that I had been in that department for a few hours and it was okay, I'd pick it up and no one who knew anything worth knowing would think it was a failing on my part, so ignore the man. I felt better after that and we proceeded to look through things I might be able to use; stickers, glitter, butcher paper, etc. have been ordered.
Thursday morning I had a benefits meeting, then I rearranged an entire section of books. It took until it was time to leave for my hearing. There's a courthouse a block away from the library I work at but it's not the one my hearing is in; despite repeated attempts to remind my parents of this, they weren't listening and assumed it was the courthouse near me and I could walk. So I was freaking out about how I was supposed to get there; I was already going to miss work, I couldn't leave even earlier to walk the couple of miles. I got a call from my ex-step-mother saying she'd take me. When I left to meet her in the parking lot, my dad was there, too, saying he didn't trust the prosecutor, so he wanted to be there for me. I was still nervous but felt so much less alone than I had prior to that moment.
We showed up at the courthouse, my lawyer showed up moments later, and then we found out there was a pro tem judge and my lawyer wanted the actual judge who presided over the sentencing last year. She figured the pro tem would side with the prosecutor, just to avoid making waves, and decided to ask for a continuance. While waiting for the hearing ahead of us to finish, she spoke with the prosecutor. Right there in the hallway where I could hear everything they said. Not only would he not agree to a continuance, he would not agree to terminating my probation, so she had better be prepared to argue like hell for me. There were the same old accusations that I was a predator and I deserved everything I got plus some I didn't. My dad told me to ignore him.
Got inside, my lawyer appealed to the pro tem for a continuance. The prosecutor started arguing "facts," failing to mention the female "victim" to show that I was a predator and let's decide this here and now, especially since the victims had representatives there who took time off work. We were granted the continuance but not before I started shaking so badly I thought I was going to throw up. Honestly, I think this is where my luck is going to end. This just pissed the prosecutor off even more, that in his eyes I've now gotten away with whatever twice. I left pissed off that he keeps trying to argue charges that weren't brought against me and that he keeps contorting the facts to support those non-existent charges.
My dad, maybe in an effort to cheer me up, told me not to be pissed, all things considered I was lucky, just wait out the time. Clearly, there were witnesses who could speak against me, so I must be lying about not doing donuts and wheelies and racing, so I deserve what I got and I was smart enough to be able to understand that if I wanted to. This on top of telling me last year that he was sure I would be going to prison up in the Phoenix area because he wasn't sure I wasn't lying about what was said about the type of relationship. I wanted to remind my dad all these charges were added
after the statement -in which it was stated there was NOTHING going on because, you know, there wasn't- by the "victim" was made, I was going to be let go, and so just maybe
they were the ones who presented things wrong. My ex-step-mother thought it was her place to join in and tell me I was being stupid and why.
My own dad thinks I'm capable of doing those bad things and that undid everything. I felt very much alone after that. I have no hope for a judge to see things the right way. Needless to say, I was...am upset with my dad and this whole ordeal. I go back in July to do this again. In the meantime, the ex-step-mother had been ordered by my dad to pick me up from work so I wouldn't have to walk, literally, from one side of town to the other to get home. I have declined any further assistance so as far as I know, I will be walking from here on out whenever my mom works nights.
Oh, and cue Epic Fail #2 for Pwebber, who after a night of drinking, kind of brushed over it. I guess I knew better than to mention it and so got what I deserved but it solidified my decision to file him under Not Safe for relating things that upset me, all the same. Of course, I started trying to make excuses for him..."Maybe he just didn't know what to say and is socially challenged, so what he said was the best he could do. I don't think I'd know what to do besides listen, myself, so maybe I can't hold it against him." To be fair, I think what he said afterward was his attempt to tell me he didn't know how to respond and my being upset didn't help it to not come off as a brush off. I don't know, maybe that is also me trying to make excuses. Doesn't matter. "Not Safe" is all I need to know.
Friday was good, actually, as was Saturday. By lunch on Friday, I gained a whole bunch of confidence in Circulation and even though I've been messing up still, I'm getting to be pretty good at it all. I already know more about how to use the computer and register than my two other coworkers (the non-20-year people). I am scared, though, by the fact that I've seen no less than three former students. One came up to me and talked to me; the other two ignored me. God, what if they go home and say they saw me and parents call the library to complain? THIS is why I want to take care of the charges, Dad. I want to be able to say "But look, the court recognizes this is NOT a problem." This town is too small for this not to be a problem no matter where I could have found work. Two years of worrying in the back, or front, of my mind that I might step on someone from my past's toes and they'll ruin things for me does not make for peaceful living.
Anyway, work is going fine. I'm still curious as to how I'll do when I'm officially on my own in Children's; I have one more week of training. I'll continue to pray that our hours of operation don't change. I'd hate to have to walk home after an 8pm close time instead of 5pm. But I'm new and guess what? My opinion carries little weight and this also doesn't matter. That's my way of trying to tell myself to keep the bigger picture in mind. It does not actually mean something doesn't matter to me, it just means I'll get over it because I refuse to let it get in the way of my ultimate goal. So if hours change and I'm left to walk across town in the dark, so be it. In the meantime, I'm collecting stats for them; they asked us to count people coming in.
Life in general is sort of strange. I'm trying to survive the constant yelling and crying from my nieces and I'm trying to ignore the yelling from my brother. It feels like it's later in the year than it is. Just something about the lighting or the feel/atmosphere or the temperature, I don't know what, that makes it feel like September or October. It's making me yearn for the coolness of December and January and all the feelings that that time of year stirs in me. It's very confusing, truth be told.
And the Boy. Why can't this be simple? Why can't I snap my fingers and be done with the problematic parts? Heart-Brain, this is Friend, nothing more. Get with the program; Brain-Brain gets it. It's ridiculous to play through the conversation between the two. H-B starts getting warm and fuzzy, spewing crap about wanting
hugs (just like that, where they just sort of melt into each other completely), about him being a sight for sore eyes type of thing, about how I am completely undone (in a supposedly good way) by some of his mannerisms...B-B steps in the most during those moments and cautions against using initial responses. Especially when the initial response is "Mine." Well, no, stupid, not at all yours so cut it out. It's also why I keep stopping with the sketch stuff; B-B thinks that's an altogether bad idea because it encourages H-B. Argh. Let's go back to my months of peace last year when I was happily and comfortably not interested in anything male.
Separate issue all together, every time I look in the mirror, I struggle to get past my nose, as though I look like
this guy before he uses the Afrin. Go ahead and laugh at that one, Bob, I know I'm being silly.
However, I've said enough. Part of me even wonders if I don't say so much to discourage its being paid attention to, "tl;dr" and all.