Yeah. My company has gone full Corporate "Maximize Shareholder Value" mode.

I'm frustrated and trying to look for a new job.

But I'm feeling those golden handcuffs bad.

Just grin and bear it for now, I guess.

Just gotta focus on positive things. Like growing. Growing is good.

It feels odd to talk about this. Especially considering the vast history other people have had with him, I was such a new presence in his life and him in mine. But I think I need to get my thoughts off my chest. I bottle things up way too much.

We'd "met" in a shared chat group on Telegram, and were likely aware of each other's existence for a few years already. I approached him about a commission which he accepted, but due to a serious lack of confidence in his own artistic skill, he felt he would be unable to complete it and gave me a refund shortly thereafter. He seemed to be going through quite a lot at the time, so I mostly kept my distance, give some space. He had already bought back FA and I'm sure he had way more stuff on his plate than what could remotely be considered reasonable. It wasn't until this past year around my birthday in September when we really started talking. This was about the time when he had seriously injured his hand.

As most new relationships start, we just chatted about a few little things that would come up. Mostly I would initiate. I figured he was still a really busy guy. At first it was the occasional check in, see if he was feeling better, until it was a now and then "hey, what's up" kind of small talk check-in chatter. He didn't always answer, but as a person who consistently has no fewer than 50 unread text messages on my phone on any given day, I can understand the social burden.

We started sharing things back and forth, mostly eevee and eeveelution pictures. Eevee's my favorite pokemon too, after all. Eventually we got into in depth conversations about things like MMOs, and the allure of certain fetishes. Nothing particularly thought provoking, but still serious, intentional discussion. It was about then when I asked if he was willing to accept the previous commission again as he was starting to feel better and more confident about his own art again. He was hesitant about the scale (ref sheet), and so I asked if he could just do his interpretation of my character, heavy artistic license, and no pressure. Get to it when he could get to it. He accepted.

I remember that at some point he lamented being unable to do a proper job because his art was so bad. I got the feeling he was comparing himself to some of the more realism style artists. I told him that his art was great, and if i didn't think that his style was also great, then I wouldn't have asked him if he could draw for me. I remember he seemed to calm down afterwards because after that we bandied around a few ideas about what to do with the commission. Hyper? Eevee version? Hybrid version? Et cetera. I'm sure he was trying to get a better idea of what I would like. I got the feeling that he had gotten a decent concept in his head so I told him that I would look forward to whatever he had in mind as long as he took the time to just enjoy the process of arting. To have fun with it.

We continued to talk here and there, sharing more things back and forth. Nothing ever really personal or in depth, but still relatively consistent, considering my terrible work and sleep schedule. Nevertheless, when I would find something I thought he would like, I would still share. Again, he didn't often answer, but by then he had already expressed that he hadn't been feeling well for some time. Yet whenever he would find the time to answer, he was open, pleasant, and earnest and had surprisingly keen feel for my types of humor for what little that we really knew each other. He even started sharing a thing or two first usually with a "I think you'd like this" type of message. I got him a set of YCH stickers that he was obviously excited about. We were by no means close, but it seemed as if we had started laying the foundation of what could potentially be an actual friendship.

Once his illness had really established, and more so in these final stretches, there was, naturally, even less energy for him to respond to what I am sure was a constant barrage of messages. I finally decided that for the first time ever, I would actually donate to a "Unitedstatesean healthcare failure" fund. His. I sent him a gift on PayPal. I doubt he even got a chance to read the notification.

The last interaction I had with him was in that shared chat group, and it was him encouraging me to face my anxieties about using digital tools. He was gone half a day later while I was at work.

I got a notification that Felis had cancelled her stream without ceremony or context, which I found extremely odd. I would be lying if I said that it didn't make me worry a little bit. But I didn't have time then. When I got home, the news had just been announced.

My last message directly to him was "*pats, tucks you in, feeds you broth, makes you tea*" on Telegram on after he expressed on social media how awful he was feeling. It remains unread, and it now feels so... inane.

I'm much more affected by his passing than I expected. When I heard the news, it was initially more of a shock. A "Goddamn, what the fuck?" moment. But after a couple hours, I was in tears, confused and upset. We weren't THAT close. Why was I crying? I was completely useless at work the following day and didn't really get past it until I added him to a little informal shrine I have at work with the prayer card of a long-time, in-person, friend-of-a-friend acquaintance who had passed a year ago. Who, incidentally, I was ALSO getting to know better and was starting on the path to close friendship. And as much as I would like to believe that I have acclimated to Neer's passing, I still have not been able to get to sleep until only a few hours before I have to wake up.

There are a surprisingly large number of little things that remind me of him. He certainly won't be forgotten. Not by me.

You have joined the great pizza in the sky.

Thank you Dragoneer for taking the time to try and coach a neurotic little nobody lurking on the internet.

My fursona design is essentially completed after HOW many years? Except for the lewds anyway.

I feel weird. Accomplished, excited, and a little sick to my stomach.

I've been doing this for so long.

Happy New Year to me.

I have spent WAY too much time on this. But I think it's pretty much complete.

I have created a Macro March/Growth calculation spreadsheet.

Everything that can be changed is in yellow, everything else is calculated.

Comments have been added to help explain.

I'm more than willing to answer any questions.

Be sure to download a copy to use for yourself.

Ignore/Delete the extra numbers on the right. Those are for my own reference.

I'm no Excel guru, but as an amateur user, I think I did pretty well.

***************

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet.....it?usp=sharing

***************

Most of the time I want someone to dynamically change my size, mass, proportions, etc.

But most of the time it doesn't happen.

I should talk to people more.

Or sample more experimental alchemy and/or technology

I'm here.

Technically my third con. FWA x2 and now TFF.

The social anxiety is strong, as it was the first time to FWA but I'm sure I'll have a good time.

One of my cats died.

It's been a little more than a month, but I still can't quite get past my little boy Lupin dying.

He died of an aggressive and essentially untreatable illness. He was gone in a month.

I'm feeling terribly angry. I want to lash out at something, but there's nothing to lash out at.

He was my baby boy, my special little boy.

I had my hysterics already but my thoughts are all fragmented. I can't get all my emotions into words

I want someone to blame. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to quit my job. And I want to do all sorts of stupid things like that.

But it just boils down to... I miss my baby

RIP my special boy.

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/18119132/

I'm not so keen on being big as much as I am in getting there.

But the process... the feeling, the sensations, the stretching, the swelling...

Just about everything about it.... even the semi painful ones. Maybe some of the really painful ones. But not the excruciating painful ones.

The inability to control it, but also, more importantly, the inability to predict it.

The resistance... the strain... the struggle.... the feeling of power.... Not the having of power so much as being unable to contain it...

The bursting of clothes and restraints.... the squeeze of walls and structures....

....

Just some thoughts I've been obsessing about lately.

Carry on.

And how to get them.... especially when you're a sparkledog in disguise.

But really, I just need to hammer down the description before looking around for someone to put one together for me.

Butter.

Parkay.

Under the best of circumstances, it is hard to say "please help." Like other four letter words, "help" is treated delicately. Is it a perception or a truth that the mere asking ensures it will not be given? Is it our pride that lends us that perception? Is it that uncomfortable awareness that we regularly ignore it ourselves that reinforces that truth?

Yes.

We find ways of saying "please help" in varied ways. Through our actions, our words, our deeds, our efforts, and our interests. We cater to this mesh of truth and perception in a way so that the word "help" itself is not expressed in any way.

But there is also fear.

There are as many reasons to fear as there are people on Earth. But here, in this moment of stinging vulnerability, I try to address a particular one that I grapple with often.

I fear that my need for help will not be understood. It is not none will come, but that none can help. Those needs and fears that have no words to describe. Those ones that are so deep and wrenching that we feel that no one will understand because we do not even know what they are. Those that make you feel naked and empty, bared to the cold without light and guidance. Unmoored from the network of all you know and all that is familiar. What compounds the fear is knowing that what is unfamiliar is your own self.

For me, this fear keeps me from asking more often than not. If I ask for help, then what? I can't even express my needs to myself.

At this moment I feel a mix of emotions, all profound. Joy, wonder, happiness, but also sadness, fear, grief, fantastic inadequacy, and regret. Above all regret. Soul numbing regret. I have a desperate need to say "I'm sorry" but I cannot find the words to describe what I am sorry for.




I need help, but I don't know why or how or from whom.

Such tige. Very mewe. Much Stripe. So loaf. Wow.

I can't seem to get myself past the first step toward becoming a decent artist.

@.@

When I was twenty years younger.

That is all.

AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!

Three days till we go to Europe! We leave Sunday. The excitement just hit me like a train and now I need to be peeled off the ceiling.

To all those who have served us:

You count among you, men and women from myriad walks of life. Of different thoughts. Of different beliefs. Of different pasts. And of different presents. It is our burden to bear that we could not give you your deserved future. It is only you who understand the unfortunate price that must sometimes be paid.

It is you who have understood best the meaning of liberty, loyalty, community, and service. And for this, you have given your souls. There is little this humble citizen can do but take a moment to honor you, and to understand that it is in your sacrifice that our pride pales. It is in your memory that we must bridge the gaps between us as a people, as a nation, as a race.

Thank you.

It's been a very, very long [insert time frame here].

If nothing else good comes from this, I have discovered that I do not adapt to change very well. I knew I didn't but it's different when you feel you're losing all semblance of control. Control may be an illusion, but it certainly is an effective one.

I suppose that there's nothing more to do than to recap my life at my job of three years.

Even to those who do know that I work for UPS, I'm certain that even they don't really know WHAT I do there. Everyone tends to assume that you're a package delivery driver. That's certainly to be expected as that IS our most publicly visible aspect. But no, the majority of the work happens behind the scenes.

I started working for UPS as a temporary hire for the 2009 peak season. While I was there I did three things. I was a clerk (the one who does return-to-senders, processes damages, does address corrections, etc. Essentially taking care of packages that need special attention.), I worked the driver center (Help coordinate deliveries, packages to hold for pick-up, call customers, etc), and the Customer Counter (The guy who helps accept your package when you bring it in to be delivered). So in that short 2-3 months, I certainly learned a lot and made myself useful. Enough that the building manager (the local head honcho) personally asked me if I was interested as a permanent hire. Of course I was, so I was in.

New year passes, no word, but eventually I get a call to be hired. Due to a mix up, I was not hired right away, but hey, I was unemployed at the time, I'm not going to argue. Unfortunately, all the other positions have been filled so I'm sent to work as a loader/unloader. Fine, I saw that coming. Only problem, I was about 250 pounds at the time and ridiculously out of shape. Oh well, no pain no gain... and I DESPERATELY needed a job. So there we go. I was put to load first (loading all those long semi trailers), and I've since found out that all the supervisors didn't think I'd make it. Sixty pounds and two months later, I was still there. Eventually, I got moved to unloading (Unloading shipments from industrial customers) and stayed there for a few months. Eventually I got moved back to loading because I was damned good at it. And there I stayed. By April I was trained as a Hazmat Designated Responder in the event of hazardous spills. That didn't go anywhere for a while but it's important to know for later.

Things more or less settled into a pretty solid routine. Peak 2010 came and went, nothing special. Annual recertification for Hazmat Response came and went too. By the middle of 2011, one of the part time supervisors started pestering me to put in a letter of interest to become a supervisor. Now, the reason that the employee needs to put in the letter is because UPS is partners with the Teamsters Union, and you have to declare your intention to become a supervisor and thus leave the union. After a few months of badgering, I put in my letter, got nervous, calmed down, more or less forgot about it. I learned later that one of the current supervisors was going to be moving out of the city at the end of the year, but that's not how it went down. A few months later, the supervisor who urged me to get my letter in gets sacked for loss-prevention issues along with one other.

This does not sit well. This is not the circumstance that is exactly GOOD to be promoted under. One does not want that kind of attention hovering around when you're shoved green and grinning into a new position. But too bad, had to deal. So I became a supervisor just in time for Peak 2011. It was a bumpy ride, but I survived, especially when a THIRD supervisor was sacked after being implicated with the earlier loss-prevention issues. Soon I was told "You're trained as a Designated responder, right? You're now our new Responsible Management Person!" Wait, what? Turns out that one of the supervisors was the head of the Hazmat Damaged Materials Program. And I was the lucky star to take his place along with several months of catch up work to do. Joy. I'm pretty much all alone on this, but with some help from a former responder, I was able to get it more or less in order.

Funny that I am now looking enviously back on these calmer days.

At about the same time, we finally pull up two more replacement supervisors and I get settled into the area called the Small Sort (where smaller packages like envelopes and delicate things get processed to prevent damage and loss). This area hasn't had a supervisor for at LEAST six months by now and the bad habits and low productivity is apparent. Certainly got my work cut out for me. Four months later, I've made some serious progress... but now I get moved out put on a different production belt. The reason is honorable: the supervisor for that area is now pregnant and so the swap is made to lighten her physical workload. I'm actually all for this.

I discuss with her how I'm running things, explain the current major issues that need to be ironed out, current plans, and current situation. I give guidelines on how to finish these things out and then she's good as gold. The area will practically run itself. Two weeks later.... It's all gone, frankly, to hell. And she's merrily carrying the handbasket. To say that I was (and still am) deeply frustrated and bitter would be a mild understatement. My work. All undone. Right in front of my eyes.

This is not to last either. A month or two later, my boss tells me that he put my name out as a (and apparently the only) potential candidate for a vacant Industrial Engineering position that had been open for about a year. This certainly takes me by surprise, but hey, I've already done my tour of duty. I've run each of the production belts in the hub and there's nothing more to be learned or gained. So yes. I'll do it. I follow up with inquiry calls and phone interviews and I get set up to do a minor duty at the end of the night. We're approaching Peak 2012, so that's all I hear about it for a long time.

And here's where it starts going downhill. A slow decline but a decline none the less. I do not DARE tell anyone about this development. This is my opportunity and I will not have anyone undermine me. Time ticks on and my boss starts phasing me out of the picture. Wise. When/If my position changes I'm already in a position to leave. So now all I do is take care of the Hazmat stuff (which isn't hard, but it SUPER detail oriented and takes time). I'm essentially a floater guy that moves around to give help to needed areas. Not exactly BAD, but.... I NEED a routine. I need to know what I'm doing from day to day. It's frustrating that when you're walking up to the door and you look up at the building, you have NO idea what you're doing that day. I'm a big boy, I can deal with that.

Peak 2012 starts to wrap up and my boss drops it out that I'm leaving soon. So much for secrecy. So here we go around, politicking to calm everyone's ruffled feathers over the coveted IE position. The fact that I have a good reputation and good rapport with all of them really helps and the calm is easily done.

Peak ends and (due to even MORE loss prevention issues) quite a few of the fellow supervisors missed out on owed vacation time. So they all begin to cram it in after Christmas Day. This results in even more cover-roulette for me. By the time the new year rolls around I'm... tired of not having a home. On the upside things are calmed down. Peak is over, no ones taking vacations, and now I can begin dialogue in earnest about this new position. I begin asking around about pay, getting some training from my future boss, and a few other things. It's a pretty restful January save for my Limbo status. I not only don't have a home, but I don't even have a clear department by this point.

February rolls around and finally things are confirmed that I am no longer Hub Operations, and am now in the IE department. Rejoice! I look forward to some solid training, attention, and a new routine to finally become meaningfully productive again. Week 2 rolls around and Oldbossman does something stupid.

On Monday, he starts berating the other supervisors in the office (which he's done before) but it just keeps building up and up and up. Before I know it he's talking about how wonderful I am and how I always got things done and this and that and ON and ON and ON.... How ashamed that they all should be for not being available or being considered or whatever for a bunch of new higher management opportunities... I felt pretty much EXACTLY like the Genie from Disney's Aladdin at the end of the movie. "What are you doing? Why are you bringing me into this?"

I went from partner to pariah in less than five minutes. And I got a new "most embarassing moment of my life". Went from hard worker to brown-nosing cocksucker before I knew what happened.

And so here I am using my not-so-considerable political acumen trying to reestablish relations with EVERYONE... I politic to AVOID politics and when you go from spectator to balls deep from a surprise attack, well... .... The only thing you CAN do is be a punching bag. Of course they certainly all knew that I wasn't really at fault. But they also know that they can't meaningfully resolve their issues at Mr. Oldbossman. So... I spent the next week in a haze. I was so embarrassed that I almost went to HR about it. I did talk to my new boss about it, but there's only so much that helps. You see, I'm in El Paso (and the only IE guy out here now) and he's in San Antonio, 500+ miles away. On top of it all, the pregnant supervisor goes on medical leave. From a full staff of 7 supervisors, including me, to barely a functional crew of 5.

By the second week, tempers had settled from a roiling boil to a slow burn, but still terribly uncomfortable. At least by then I could start rebuilding my ruined reputation. Once a cocksucker, always a cocksucker. I petitioned my boss to stop teaching me big things and to give me some simple things to do so I can have a solid routine and reestablish myself professionally. He agreed and things started proceeding steadily from there.

February is also stressful because its our Safety compliance month. It's manageable when fully staffed, but with two supervisors down and morale lower than usual, it becomes an overwhelming task. I'm called in to help, and (being IE) I'm also a big safety representative. Unfortunately I'm also still behind from Peak on all my Hazmat stuff, so the mountain of work doesn't get smaller. Thankfully it neither gets bigger. I can handle two sets of duties easily, this third issue of Compliance Month is a third duty that starts to break down the rest. I at least relish the fact that there's a new Responsible Management Person to take over these duties when I finally catch them all up, so I'm also getting him settled into it on top of all that, too. But I can do it. Willpower it through. And so I did.

March comes around and, as we all know, with it comes Spring Break. Peace has been more or less reestablished and things are ticking along. Frustrations toward Oldbossman are still high, but blissful apathy is moving back in to take over among the troops. (Yeah, this is about the best we hope for.)

Unfortunately, with Spring Break comes the first round of vacations for hourlies and supervisors alike. Unfortunately for me, they have not replaced my position. There is a requisition process where the actual need for a supervisor is evaluated before one is authorized to be promoted. It's been a month and these things take time, so fine. I can cover. They need the cover because while the Hub Ops can scrape by with only two supervisors out, three is when it starts to fall apart. I'm not fully ensconced in my new position anyway, so I can help them out and my boss orders me to.

Oldbossman takes vacation first. This isn't a big deal, but I do need to divert my attention from my stuff to help them out there now and then because there are a few things that he DOES take care of.

Next week, first supervisor takes vacation. I cover. So I go from partially involved to fully involved in Hub Ops. (Hazmat starts to fall even more behind)

Next week, we have 3 corporate visitors. Internal Safety and Hazmat Audit, my Boss's boss, and the Feeder department boss (Feeders is in charge of keeping track of the semi trailers that arrive and depart). No one is thrilled but me. I'm like Dr. Zoidberg with how excited I am about all the attention we're suddenly getting.

Next week, all visitors are gone, but second supervisor goes on vacation. I'm covering again, except this time, I have a failed Hazmat audit to bring into compliance, and a list of observations from Mr. Boss-boss with a vague comment on "I'll be back to check up on you all." Wonderful! A to-do list! Focus! Direction! Production! Not so cool is the nebulous time frame. But hey, things will calm down soon and I can get these things done, right?

Next week, I'm covering again

And the Next week

And the next week.

One month becomes two. Two months are now three. Vacations are continuing to cycle around. And still no replacement in sight. It's been a month since Mr. Boss-boss visited and I've had all of three days to get any of that stuff done.

Then finally, last week. Mr. Boss-boss and various other higher-ups have a conference call to discuss the observations. Guess what. I did almost none of it. Hurray for being a failure.

So finally I did the one thing I've never done at any job I've had. I gave up.

I just cannot do all these things anymore. I cannot run a production line, take care of hazmat (which is becoming increasingly more and more time consuming) and my IE stuff in under five and a half hours a day. And yes, this is STRICTLY enforced because I'm no longer directly production related. I have no problem putting in a little extra work off the clock to keep under hours, but there is no way I am going to cut myself out of that much time required to take care of all this.

I already took a pay hit in accepting this position. I knew full well I would no longer be getting extra hours. I expected that. I would have liked a pay rate increase, but every time I talk or discuss it with anyone, I get the run around.

Last week was a series of realizations. I filed taxes and after my annual performance evaluation, I got a raise. Unfortunately, I saw my W-2 and my new projected annualized salary side by side. I've doubled my duties for an extra $200 a YEAR. I'm overwhelmed with the amount of work I need to do in so limited a time, yet I try to get it all done. In my haste, I took a fall in one of the trailers. No one saw me, but it brought me up short. "What the FUCK am I doing? I'm lying here on the floor because I'm being careless. I'm being careless because I'm overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed because I have too much to do." So I just gave up.

I feel alone and hopeless. I can't focus anymore. It's the last failure in my crumbling life web.

This stress has ruined my school. I can't retain anything. I could not for the life of me do or remember anything I heard or read. I had to drop the entire semester.

I've lost a friend to himself. He started reading the Bible and caught the crazy and the dumb. He's a Christian and so am I. But I've always believed Fath must be tempered with logic. Certainly faith by nature is blind, but we can minimize that blindness. Yet... I've known this guy since high school. He's an intelligent, critical, rational man. Or was. I asked him something just today about why he was doing something and he looked straight at me and said "Because He said so." You'd better damn well believe that I shot him down. But... I talk with him and I no longer know him. This is the same friend I vaguely complained about in a previous journal.

There are so many other things going on, so many things I've tried, and so many additional circumstances that I haven't mentioned. But with everything going on, even the smallest thing feels like a mountain and every action feels like a drop in a void, and each circumstance a tangled web. Every front seems besieged. Emotional, physical, spiritual, financial, and probably more that I can't qualify right now. I know that I will look back on the way I wrote this journal and realize its an incomplete and incoherent mess. The history lesson was probably entirely unnecessary, but it provided a starting point and this is the best I can manage.

There's so much more to say, so many details that I've left out, but I can't even collect my thoughts properly anymore. Text alone cannot do my myriad thoughts and emotions justice, yet... I feel like I no longer have anyone left to talk to. And on top of it all, talking about it no longer seems to help. I never had much willpower, but it used to always there when I needed it.

I need help. I need help desperately. But I don't know what to do or where to turn. I feel hopeless and lost. I've lost the last bastion of self-definition which is my work ethic. My rational mind is all I have left and even that's failing me. I fear losing my sense of self even further as my willpower remains broken. It scares me.

I know on some level that no one that reads this can genuinely help me, but right now I'm becoming desperate and I hope that in some way dumping my thoughts out like this will grant me enough clarity of mind to see what I need to do.

I wonder why it is that everyone wants to get me a drink... and then when I drink you can't get me to shut up.

I warned them!

Become religious.

Why is it that when most people find God, they seem to have lost life?

I consider myself spiritual, but it always seems religion more often than not, takes that away.

God isn't a set of rules that you're supposed to follow, God is supposed to be something that makes you better. Something that makes you easier to live with. Something that makes you feel life more fully. Something that makes you happier. Something that is fulfilling. Something that makes you more you.

...

I miss my friend.

You know what I hate? Something I hate to nearly the point of incoherent rage?

I hate pies. In fact I hate pie so much that I can't stand the sight of it. I hate it enough that I am absolutely obligated to EAT the pie so I don't have to see it anymore.

I suffer truly.

A gentle reminder to those who say they subscribe to it.

It is "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

NOT

"Do unto others as you have been done unto."

A small but profound difference.

Well THAT didn't take very long. And I was making progress, too. Oh well...

Got moved out of my position down in the small sort and onto a different production belt.

There is a VERY good reason why, but I'm still deeply unhappy. Hopefully I'll get moved back once this all blows over, but I'm even missing the things that I didn't like doing down there. :(

It'll all be good in the end, especially since the area I supervise now pretty much runs itself. Perhaps I can address some old issues with some of my non-production duties.

Try holding union-protected employees accountable for ANYTHING.


BLARGH!