Wolfram & Hart

Long break from blogging, I know. But when I tell you why, you will forgive me.

I had my ultimate stress dream a few nights ago. It's a recurring dream, but it isn't always the same, it just has similar events portrayed differently. It's always about a plane crash. I'm never on the plane, I see it crashing down from a distance. I am usually watching the burning plane crash into something. This past one was crashing into my apartment building. It usually indicates that I am feeling very overwhelmed.

What's overwhelming? Looming dissertation deadline and the new job. The whole point, mind you, of a non-academic job was to get something that wouldn't weigh on me at home. Something that, once I got the hang of it, would be soothing in its repetition. I had imagined legal assistant work as fast-paced, with lots of editing and attention to detail. I wasn't prepared for the psychological toll.

First of all, I work for Wolfram & Hart. OK, I don't actually work for the fictional law firm from Angel, but I signed a statement indicating that I would reveal nothing that happens at my job to anyone ever. Standard privacy protection lawyer stuff. So, Wolfram & Hart is how I will refer to them here. The law firm is actually filled with very nice people, not demons. My department in particular has some really supportive, sweet people. We all work for mortgage demons, though.

I work for a law firm that represents banks that are foreclosing on peoples homes. My job in particular, is to talk to people (by phone) who are trying to find out how much they have to pay in order to reinstate or pay off their mortgage. The number is usually somewhat ridiculous. And usually it has to be paid within a month. Most people who have reached the point where the bank has decided to foreclose don't have the money. And most of them are feeling overwhelmed by all the things that led them to the point where they are talking to me. I also calculate the amount of money they are inquiring about. It takes days of inquiry to get all of the different costs and fees associated with a foreclosure. Every bank and every county has different rules, dollar amounts, and ways of applying them.

It's a job that is demoralizing and, in another twist of the knife, uses math skills that I haven't really used in a while. I'm the kind of person that doesn't even like calculating the tip at a restaurant. I'm using my reserve brainpower. All this leads me to come home and want to go immediately to sleep. I ride the bus home. I'm one of those people on the bus that looks depressed. Just staring into space with a vacant look.

Last week, on Monday, I decided that I would go right after work to an academic library and do an hour or two of diss. work before I head home. That way, I would go home feeling better, I'd get work done before laying down on the couch and snoozing, and maybe I'd be an actual human being for my husband, who has taken on all of the household duties. All of the college libraries here are locked up tight. Student IDs required to get into the buildings. Their websites say so. Penn was nice about it, claiming that if you wanted into their library and you weren't a student, you could pay them $400 for an ID. WTF?! Drexel's website, however, didn't say anything about it. So I went to Drexel after work. It involved riding the subway, taking the trolley, and a bus! I get all the way there and there's a damn security gate where Drexel IDs are necessary to enter. I tried to talk to the guard, and he said there are visiting hours until 5pm each weekday. It was currently 4:30. So I ran around the library, taking pictures of an entire chapter of a book I needed with my iPhone, and then tried to make my way home.

No, the saga doesn't end here. I got bad google directions and didn't go to the bus stop I needed to. Instead, I walked (far) to one I knew would take me home, only to encounter two buses too full to take any passengers. When I finally got home, I was ready to cry. Luckily, my husband had made a beautiful dinner. Arroz con pollo from my grandmother's recipe. So sweet! I settled in, tried to decompress. Enjoyed a lovely and much needed dinner. Snuggled with my dog. Kissed my husband. And then my laptop died. It would be a week before I could get a new hard drive installed and was able to write again. When it rains, it freaking pours.

So I haven't really felt like (not to mention have the hardware required for) blogging!

I am working on dealing with this job situation mentally. I'm trying to adjust my caffeine intake so that I come home less tired and can make an evening out of my after-work time. I also set aside time for art this week. I haven't been inspired at all recently, so I'm trying to work on that. I cooked a meal, which was definitely a way to feel better. And Halloween (which is today, but I celebrated last night) lit up my weekend. I'm trying to be positive and to not let work be all that I am, but it is a struggle.

So if I'm not blogging much lately, that's probably the reason. Something's gotta give, folks.