08 March 2011

this is not begging

It probably says a lot about my self-esteem and whatever else, but I find it really hard to sort of stand up for myself right now. Not that it ever was easier but  somehow these situations didn't come up that often before, I suppose there was no need, maybe because I avoided them, maybe because I simply moved and worked and lived in an environment where I had found my place - I really don't want to analyse this any further.
Fact is, right now there are two big issues I have to fight for. Ah gosh, no, fighting is not the term. I have to do something about it because if I don't I am a right old shit and will no doubt wake up some night(s) furious with myself for not having done it. And then I will try to small talk it out of my conscience and pretend it's nothing and it will get digested the wrong way by my body and I'll get grey hair all of a sudden or a paralyzed arm or somesuch psychosomatic reaction. 
Ok Ok Ok
I just wrote my boss a benign pushy email without too much condescending waffle and just a hint of a threat explaining to him that I will be taking all my holiday entitlements due to me for the time I was out sick (seven weeks, thank you sweet German labour legislation) sort of now unless he hands over cash instead - which he is well able to. So, no, this is not begging.
Actually, I don't want to have seven weeks holidays right now. I just got back to work after 76 weeks of idleness. If I had the money and the energy and health, obviously I'd be off exploring etc. but as it stands, I'd rather be at work.
And the other thing is sitting here on my desk, pages and pages of forms to fill out for my application to get reduced earning capacity pension. The stuff they want to know just blows me: Where did you reside on July 1st 1990? Why do they need to know that??? If I tell them the truth - I suppose I  must - and write  
behind the huge old Banyan tree, east coast, main island, paradise ...
now what will they ask next?

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