I want to start off by saying that I love my new job. Workplace. I think? Maybe I tell myself I love it because I know that I don’t want to go back to where I was before. No, I do. I really do like where I’m at now. But it’s a love/like that has some days where I really just want to not be. There.
I’m a vet tech. Kind of. I am a unlicensed person pretending to be a tech? Sometimes it seems that way. One day they tell me that they’re really happy with me and that I’m “really doing great!”… Then the next day I’m not? I really don’t know. They say they mean well. Do they?
They have standards. I get that. I thought that I met them. I’m no expert, but I know shit. I know a lot of shit. But I can’t use my knowledge yet. Because I’m “new”. They don’t trust me. Yet. Maybe? I’d like to think that is why I get this nagging feeling that I’m always fucking up something in their eyes.
I’ve had 4 check-ins in the last 2 weeks. I’ve cried at three. I hate when I cry. It is one of the top 3 things I hate about myself. I always cry when I absolutely want to NOT cry. It’s like a fucking defense mechanism. And I HATE IT! Because I look like a fucking idiot and weak ass fuck up. And I get so fucking angry because it’s not just a couple tears. No. It’s fucking can’t-talk-and-defend-myself crying. It’s bullshit. I hate that I can’t NOT cry. Is tear duct removal surgery a thing?
Let me start over. I left my last job. I wanted to leave for a long time because managment sucked. She was a real bitch. Like, “Imma be your best friend to your face as I stab you in the back and twist the knife”. Bitch. She was so fake. And oh, the condescending way she talked to you. Like you were back in kindergarten and she was explaining the most simple tasks with constant “okay?”s after each short simplified sentence. She never bothered me, personally, enough to quit at first. That’s how she sucked you in. You were her BFF with a capital F(uck u) when you first got hired. Telling me how much she wanted me to work there. It seemed like fate. My first veterinary job. After a few months, you see the real her though. Through the cracks. You see how she treats other employees. Calls them out in front of everyone. Real mature. Very managerial. But for two years, she didn’t give me a reason enough to quit. She was the first straw in a series of three to break the back though.
I got called up to the principal’s office. Then I had to wait with her because she needed a witness for all of her meetings with employees. (This was new after M quit a few months prior. It was a nasty quit. Good for M). Once we had T to witness and be a mediator, we could begin. Should have had a more neutral mediator. T was a bitch too.
Long story, short: A told me that some of the doctors were complaining about me. Apparently I would blow them off when they asked me to do a task. Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me. Better investigate. So I asked for an example… To my should-not-have-been-a-surprise, there was not specific incident that could be exemplified. Interesting. So, in my mind, I’m getting accused of something that did not happen. Super. Glad to know A really knows how to be a manager. I can take criticism, but you have to give me and example of what I’m doing wrong in order for me to fix it. insert “shrug” emoji here
This is what started my whole “gotta-get-out-of-this-shit-hole” mentality. The problem was that I really loved our new Associate Veterinarian. Figures. She became a great friend in the few months I knew her.
The other two reasons I ended up leaving included another bitch who thought she knew everything and wanted to boss everyone around and blackmail them (because she handled all of the techs’ schedules), and the hostile work environment overall. Favoritism. Hypocrisy. Gossip. Shitty pay. Long hours. No appreciation. Jesus Christ, the list goes on.
Then dad tells me about his new vet he takes R to. He loves them. They love him. And R. Of course. Who couldn’t love my little “brother” of a dog. He’s the best dog ever. Dad’s a social butterfly. He can make friends (plural) on a deserted island. Tells them that I work at an animal hospital and am a tech. Dr. S tells him that they’re hiring. Fate?
Anyway, he needs me to take him in for a recheck after his surgery because he has a new job and can’t keep taking time off. So I do. I walk into the nicest animal hospital I’ve ever been in. Fear Free. Clean. Comforting. Oh, and everyone seems so happy and nice there. That’s new.
Within a month, I’m hired. Two months later, I start.
I’ve always heard of these “unicorn” hospitals. This was one. Everyone is so happy to work there. No gossip. Teamwork. People getting along? What kind of place is this?
There is a training period. I already know how to do a lot of the things. But there is more than one way to skin a cat? Yeah, I know. I’m not allowed to do certain things. Yet. Ugh, it’s just so frustrating because I’ve been doing the things for over two years now. But I get it. Training.
Three months later. I FUCKED UP! I can’t believe how irresponsible I was! I was 98% sure I would get fired for this major fuck up. I missed a shift. A boarding shift. The fucking cat needed medication. And I missed it. It wasn’t life-threatening. Thank fucking God. I fucked up. And I didn’t realize I fucked up until the next fucking day. Just hit me. Like a fucking sack of bricks. Randomly.
Check in #1 w/ Dr. S and A
90-day review. I made it to 3 months. Probationary period. I’m so fired. Fuck.
A and Dr. S tell me how great I’m doing in such a short period of time. They really do care. I think. I hope they’re not like my last manager. We discuss goals for next period of time before next review. All good things so far. The team huddle from earlier that morning addressed mistakes. Everyone makes them. We learn from them. We talk about responsibility. Obviously my major fuck up is addressed. Here come the fucking waterworks. Defense mechanism. I hate myself. Pull yourself together S. Can’t even fucking talk. So I don’t. I just keep fucking crying.
I’m not fired. But trust level has plumetted. Back to square fucking number 1. Ninty days wasted? Feels that way. Hours cut. Well, there goes that beautiful paycheck from last week. Lost 10 hours the next week. I deserved worse.
Check in #2 w/ A
On the schedule: “S meet with A”. It’s been like a week. wtf. Just checking in on goals set at review. Okay. No biggie. So why the fuck am I tearing up again?! WTF, S? I hate myself. I cannot believe I am FUCKING CRYING at a FUCKING goal check-in. Bull-fucking-shit. A tells me that he’s proud of me and that I’m doing very well.
Check in #3 w/ Z
email from Dr. S: just a reminder that Z and S should be doing rounds for pet care. Translation: I’m doing something wrong. Z is not sure exactly what I’m doing wrong. Dr. S just says that I need to learn to prioritize. It’s watching dogs and feeding cats… I think I got it. But I’m new. Training. No tears this time.
Check in #4 w/ Dr. S and Dr. H
Total ambush. No notice. Huddled before lunch, scheduled to leave for the day. Jk. Dr. S says we’re having a meeting with Dr. H. Apparently I’m not myself lately. Rewind to hours earlier. Asked Dr. S about a refill through our online portal. I’m pretty sure I know the answers. But #stilltraining. Too busy to talk. Go ask a senior nurse. Senior nurse not sure and tells me to ask Dr. S. Welp. There goes that plan. Frustrated. Not just at that. Can’t answer phones yet. Phone rings so much and I just have to stand there and pretend it doesn’t. Frustrated. Can’t go over treatment plans yet. Frustrated.
Apparently I’m not myself lately. FUCKING TEARS.
I LITERALLY DON’T KNOW WHY I’M FUCKING CRYING RIGHT NOW! Literally no reason. So I make SHIT UP. Gotta come up with some fucking excuse as to why I am crying right now. She didn’t even say anything yet. I am litteraly crying for no reason. That I know of.
Why am I crying? Am I overwhelmed? Overworked? Probably. But broke girls gotta work. I’m not some daddy’s princess that doesn’t have to pay for shit.
Dr. S thinks I’m spread too thin. Broke girls gotta work. Dr. H says that I haven’t been talking as much. Not myself. 90-day review I was told to cut back on “story-telling”. Limit non-work-related chitchat. Head down and work… now I’m getting reprimanded for not story-telling? Missing something here. I can’t stop fucking crying. It’s like a dam broke. So I blame my family’s personal issues. It works. I’m told to take it easy this weekend. I almost got more hours cut. But turned that shit right around and changed subjects as fast as I could. Probably still gonna lose some hours… Cuz I’m spread too thin. Broke girls gotta work.
Dr. S told me to have some me time. Read. Relax. Journal? I don’t journal. Never had. I’ve always been told I was a pretty decent writer. But what do I write about? Well, here I am. Guess I had something to write about today.
I love my job. Dr. S really seems like she cares. I’m pretty sure. I don’t think shes like A from my last job. I think she’s genuine. I hope. She intimidates me. But I like her.
She was right though. I do feel better. Slightly. Still feel like shit. But better.
We’re checking in again on Monday. I don’t want to cry again. I hate the feeling. I hate myself for it. I don’t want to cry.
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