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So by now I think most of y’all know I work at a university – a state run university.  Because of that we have a “roster” of all the university employees for all 4 of our campuses that includes our salary information.  Anyone who knows where I am and what my official last name is can find me in there and see precisely how much money I make a year.  I’ve known this for awhile.  Yesterday I was over in the other office finishing a meeting with K and our boss’s boss called her to see how to find this roster – she needed to look someone up.  K reminded me of this ability to look at ANYONE’s salary.  So after she left, I did.

T – heretofore known as T the TOAD – makes $20,000 more per year than I do.

He’s got the same level of education – a Master’s degree – only his is in something to do with museums.  Museums – you read that right.  He sucks in front of a classroom, takes forever to prep for classes, and has been caught giving out blatantly incorrect information.


There isn’t anything on my calendar today so I’m pretty well just planning on hiding in here.  I don’t expect life to ever be fair, it would just be nice it was a little more equitable.


Evie Cat has become my saving grace lately.  We’ve developed a routine.  I go downstairs to take my fist full of pills at 8.  She jumps up on the bed and either wants to be loved on or wants to play with her feather stick.  Josh and I play with her while we talk.  Sometime between 9 – 9:30, depending on how quick the pills kick in, he goes up for a cigarette and Evie and I have quiet time.  I lay on my side facing Josh’s pillow and she snuggles up to his pillow.  When she’s ready, she reaches out her furry little toes and kneads my arm.  That’s my signal to scratch her ears and under her chin.  When she’s had enough she sits up.  A few minutes later we do it again.  It’s utterly adorable and is quite possibly better than any med I take.


I’m starting to feel like I’m being pushed too far, but it’s not just one thing.  I’m really enjoying being in this class, but being out late on Mondays makes Tuesdays rough.  Josh and I are kind of better, but I’m still not believing anything he says and I’d really just as soon not talk to him.  The bullshit at work is getting ridiculous.  And I really just don’t have any kind of respect for my boss anymore.  I found out from K yesterday that she hurt her back over Labor Day chasing one of her daughters down the street because the kid had FINALLY mouthed off to the point where she was going to hit her.  And we’re getting the brat again this weekend.  (funny story about the brat – she was all sick and miserable the last time she came over and not a few nights later the ex posted pics of her swimming in their backyard – what a miraculous recovery)

Anyway, I’m feeling burnt.  I see shrinky-poo on Friday and I’m hoping something good comes out of that.  I don’t feel out of control or like I’m in danger or anything, just kind of run down and losing momentum.  If anyone has any good suggestions for (appropriately) kicking one’s own ass, do share.