Midweek Moan

It's only Tuesday and I'm exhausted already.  To be honest, I was even more exhausted yesterday.  The problem, of course, is that I'm back at work after a week and a half off, during which I succeeded relaxing sufficiently that I completely fell out of the habits and routines of work.  Which is no bad thing, of course.  Until you have to return to the grindstone, that is.  Still, at least these days Tuesday is midweek for me and, with the May Day Bank Holiday coming up on Monday, I've got a four day weekend to look forward to - the thought of that is the only thing that has kept me going so far this week.  And, believe me, it has been a shitty week so far.  Management still can't seem to grasp the fact my going down to four days a week is to reduce my workload and stress levels - they instead seem to think that they need to pile more work onto me in four days than I used to do in five.  They seem suddenly to have forgotten the fact that it was excessive work-related stress that nearly killed me last year and that I'm under medical orders to reduce my stress levels.  I suspect that they think that they are now safe from the threat of me suing them.

As we seem to be back on the subject of my work and health woes, (it's been a while since I had a good moan on these subjects, so what the Hell, eh?), I was totting up the score sheet, so to speak, while I was off work.  In the debit sheet, my blood pressure became so high that I was in danger of suffering a stroke and, consequently, even though it is back down at normal levels, I now have an increased risk of heart disease.  On top of that, I developed Type 2 diabetes which, in turn has left me with reduced kidney function.  In the profit column, well, luckily the diabetes and blood pressure didn't do any permanent damage to my eyesight.  The root cause of all this was work-related stress over a prolonged period.  Something my employer still won't accept responsibility for and is still reluctant to accept my status as disabled because of the diabetes (despite this being a legal definition laid down in the Equalities Act) and the fact that they are legally requited to make reasonable allowance for this.  Which left me pondering, not for the first time, why the fuck am I still working for them?  A sentiment reinforced by my recollection of my treatment after I returned to work last year after three months on sick leave, when I was deliberately and relentlessly subjected to a hugely stressful situation by management, that was only resolved after an intervention by my union.  Not to mention the utterly patronising treatment I've recently received with regard to my academic qualifications (I out-qualify everyone else in the local organisation), and a general level of discourtesy and generally disrespectful behaviour directed toward me of late.  Really, why don't I just call them out for the ignorant and incompetent bastards they are and tell them to go fuck themselves?  Money, probably, most specifically those four years of National Insurance payments I still need for a full pension...