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Friday, December 19, 2008

My Work Hand ...

For the past two days there's been something seriously wrong with my left hand and my wrist. It hurts to grab things, pick things up, or to put any sort of pressure on it. Hurts like hell to pick up a stack of four books or to open a door. It hurts so damn bad. When I got home I ate some McDonald's and when I was done I crumpled up the wrapper and it hurt like hell. It hurt to crumple up a hamburger wrapper! How fucking horrible is that?

I thought that on thursday maybe I slept on it wrong. But this morning it felt even worse than it did yesterday. I'm worried that something's seriously wrong with it. I mean, the shattered bone in my toe and my weak legs hurt enough for my whole body. Now I have something ELSE wrong with me.

But even though it hurts when I'm working, I'm trying not to make a big deal about it at work. I have a feeling a few managers hate me. I have a feeling I'm being needlessly focused on. I have a feeling that despite raising my section from last in the district to second, despite having the only department that's successful, despite all that I'm being constantly attacked for doing things wrong. I have a feeling my department's success is being PURPOSELY silenced. I have a feeling that someone may be trying to push me out.

This might just be my personal paranoia. And it might be the pills. But I don't want to give them yet ANOTHER reason to get rid of me.

Plus I have so much constantly wrong with me, one health problem after another after another, and in my eight plus years with this company I've seen a number of lifers at my work quietly phased out and put out to pasture for being injured and sickly.

And I don't want to be the next one.

Beck: Guess I'm Doing Fine

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