In the previous update about my stupid life, I shared that I had contacted the local union at the hospital where I work because I had been screwed out of a potentially years-long contract. I was informed definitively that due to the day the contract was registered (the 14th of August), I had no chance to contest the contract. You see, I officially worked until the 14th (included), but, because the motherfucker whose medical leave I was covering didn’t call in advance to inform that he would return to work, something that every other worker does as a basic human courtesy, I ended up showing up at work on the 16th (the 15th was a holiday) only to find out that I was out of a job. In such circumstances, nobody can give you a straight answer about whether or not you will get paid if you stick around for the day, so some just leave. I left in most previous occasions, but this time I stayed to finish some tasks that had kept me busy for the entire week, and because I get along with my boss. In the end I didn’t get paid, although I have contacted a couple of departments in an attempt to correct that issue.

Anyway, because our secretary wasn’t aware that the person whose leave I was covering would return, she arranged that potentially years-long contract on the 14th. She told me that if she had known that the guy would return, she would have waited a couple of days to formalize the contract (that started on the 18th), meaning that it would have gone to me. So the medical-leave guy has screwed me out of a better job in a different department. To say that I’m very angry at him is an euphemism. Some day I’ll end up paired with him to work the afternoon shift, and I’ll have to get it changed to mornings. This time he screwed me over was just the last one; I have covered his leaves about six times, and all of them ended with me entering the office to find the fucker nonchalantly sitting at his desk. It’s no use talking to him; he’s clearly screwed in the head.

I have spent this night entangled in an hours-long nightmare, and then I woke up with a headache. Shortly after my shift started at eight in the morning, the usual middle-aged coworkers who interact with each other as if they’re in a school playground forced me to shove earplugs in. Minutes later, as I was trying to focus on my tasks, the secretary approached the female technician who sits opposite me, and I started getting the feeling that they were talking about me. I usually ignore these kinds of paranoid thoughts; as a solitary autistic guy who was persecuted by nasty people in middle school and high school, and who can’t determine people’s intentions to begin with, I’m always on the defensive, never knowing from where the next attack is going to come. However, I’m also aware that such defensive mechanisms tend to create lots of false positives. But in this case, these two women started gesturing clearly toward me. Very annoyed, I pulled my earplugs off and asked them what was it that they wanted. The secretary asked me if I was alright. I considered explaining myself: I have a headache on top of a sensory processing disorder, and the fact that I’m wearing earplugs should have told them that they shouldn’t bother me unless necessary. I said, against my will, “I was just trying to…”, and my voice trailed off. However, they weren’t even listening; they were already chit-chatting with each other about the fact that they couldn’t wear earplugs themselves because shoving things into their holes is icky. Once again I was forced to face the fact that I deal five days a week with the kinds of human beings that would wake you up just to ask if you were sleeping. Also, fuck open-plan offices.

This afternoon I’ll put together the audiochapter for the 114th part of my deranged, depraved novel, and during the rest of this morning I’ll arrange my 2200 words of notes for the following chapter into chronological chunks that will allow me to synthetize them through the usual sessions of freewriting (usually performed at five in the morning). Losing myself in writing is my most reliable way to remain sane; the older I get, the more unbearable I find human beings. Even dealing with them online has gotten annoying. Oh, and recently I’ve been playing Cyberpunk 2077. The 2.0 update finally made it good, so check it out if you’re into that kind of stuff. Bye bye.

Having to work is annoying enough, but in addition, it’s come to my attention that someone in my office has stolen a juicier contract from me even though I was ahead in the rankings. These last couple of months have gone as follows:

• On the 16th of last month I came to the office only to realize that the bastard whose medical leave I was covering returned to work without calling in advance. Fifth time or so he has done this to me. Nobody is ever sure if the worker who was covering the leave will get paid if he or she stays for the day, so I usually just left, but I get along with my boss enough that I chose to stick around and finish the few tasks I had been dealing with all week, under the assurance that he would talk with the department of personnel so they’d end up paying me for those last couple of days (a holiday and the day when my coworker returned from his leave).
• Days later, unemployed, I called to resume my unemployment benefits. They told me they couldn’t, because I still appear in their databases as employed. Excuse me? I don’t remember how (maybe I called the hospital where I work), that issue got solved, but when I checked until what day I had worked according to the internal system, it said that my last day was the 14th, meaning that they wouldn’t pay the two days they owed me (one a holiday, the other when the shithead on medical leave returned).
• That month I got paid as if I had worked for its entirety, even though I became unemployed midway through. Second time that had happened to me. I knew that they would deduct the corresponding sum from the following contract, meaning that soon enough I would waste two more weeks of my life working for money that I already have.
• One of my coworkers injured his back. A new medical leave. The current contract started on the 6th of this month. Three days later I got covid and spent a whole week at home. Yesterday, on the 25th, my current coworker on the afternoon shift initiated a conversation that sounded something like this:

“Are you aware that they have screwed you over?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, bro.”
“On the 18th of last month you weren’t working, and you’re the first in the ranking, but for a new contract they ended up hiring someone who’s way down on the list. Another one of our coworkers, higher than that guy, complained to the union and got rewarded with a three-months long contract that should have gone to you, because you’re higher than both on the ranking.”
“You serious, mon?”
“And she (the coworker who complained to the union and got a contract that didn’t correspond to her) ended up calling the union because I had to bump her off another contract that went to her, even though I was ahead of her in the rankings.”
“Aw shit, son.”
“They’re always plotting, this gal and our secretary. They keep saying that they want more girls to work here.”
“That’s heavy, dude.”
“Tomorrow morning, call the union and explain the situation. That original contract from the 18th has already been corrected. They only awarded it to that coworker because she was the one who complained. When they look you up in the ranking, they’ll realize you were ahead and they’ll have to either give you her contract or pay you for those three months of work that you will have missed out on.”
“Dang, cuz.”
“The secretary and this coworker know that they have screwed you over. They’ll do it again. You either correct this or the rankings won’t mean shit here. People like this will steal contracts if they can get away with it.”

So tomorrow morning I’ll have to call the union and explain the situation. When I get to work in the afternoon, I expect the secretary and this female coworker to glare at me as if they hadn’t been the ones who screwed me over in the first place. I’m the non-confrontational type, and due to my self-destructive urges I’d rather be unemployed, but my aggressive coworker is right: if you allow yourself to get stepped on, you will keep getting stepped on again and again. If I refuse to correct this situation, it will also set a precedent for the entire office. So after I involve the union, two of my coworkers will get permanently mad at me even though it’s their fault, and in exchange I’ll either have to work for a couple of months longer, or, in case they can’t legally transfer her contract to me, receive three months of wages for diddling my thumbs.

What a convoluted, boring mess that I wish didn’t involve me.