Bruised and Battered

Japanese trucks

This horrible week is finally coming to an end, and not a moment too soon. Sometimes the universe chooses to throw a succession of mud pies at you and you just have to duck. It feels like I got hit by a Mack truck, or more likely Hino or Isuzu. And more like a convoy than a single truck. Or maybe I’m a scarecrow in a field, buffeted by wind and rain. Or a rag doll drowned in the washer and then pummeled in the dryer. At any rate, I’m bruised.

As much as I’m a fan of new experiences, I’ve had several firsts recently, most of which I could have done without. This week’s was calling and riding in an ambulance. They sent a fire truck as well. There was no explanation except that that’s how it’s done here. Of course, my Japanese is not perfect and I may have mixed up “heart palpitations” and “spontaneous combustion”. We’ll never know. In the end, all is well and I can cross that off the list of things I never wanted to do in the first place.

To be honest, I did want to see what it’s like to ride in an ambulance, but the conditions were not ideal. It struck me as I sat there on the bench in the speeding (slowly) emergency vehicle that they hadn’t provided a seat belt. It’s funny that they go so far as to send a fire truck as well as six, yes six, EMTs but nobody was concerned about me falling off the bench and flying out the rear doors of the ambulance.

Work says they’re making arrangements to make sure I get all the hardest parts of this new project we’re working on and that I should be flattered. I’m not. They want me because I’m the best, yet they have no intention of paying me more. I’ve had to have the humiliating conversation about money three times already and am getting tired of fighting about it.

I’m tired in general. My head, my heart, my soul. Bad things are happening and there’s nothing I can do about them. I am painfully conscious of the unfairness of the universe and this leads to frustration and hopelessness. I’m trying to fight back, but there’s a limit to my strength.

Where is my guardian angel when I need her?


9 thoughts on “Bruised and Battered”

  1. On the contrary, I like the post a lot. I am sorry about the week though. Enough mud pies make for a mud bath, and that can be cleansing. About the money thing: you MUST demand more. I walked away from work because they wanted to take advantage of skill sets they were not willing to pay for. Most of the time they came back. Have you seen this funny video?


    1. Cute. It would be funnier if I wasn’t feeling so beaten up. I keep talking to them and they say they’ll do something and then nothing happens and I keep doing the work anyway. Walking away is starting to sound good. Sigh. I need a nap.

    1. Nice expression, Diana. And so far I’m resisting the urge. I smoke in my dreams sometimes but not in life. Except for the occasional attack of the Nicodemon or when I smell someone else’s smoke, I don’t really think about it. I think that’s progress.

Any opinions about that? I love to hear from you.

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