Fresh when it gets here from
Julie Barrett
Wednesday, November 12, 2025
You may know of Rodney Dangerfield, the comic whose schtick was "I get no respect."
The joke is on me now, and I'm not laughing.
Last year it was burnout, and no one believed me. This year, it's cancer and chemo, and it seems that people still expect me to perform for them at peak level. Believe me, it's all I can do to keep what some days seems like my three remaining good brain cells working amid bouts of nausea and neuropathy. But that's okay, I guess, as long as I can drop everything and do some complex tasks at the very last minute.
I had planned for some continuing education this week. But no. I watched about an hour of it and realized I couldn't multitask. Believe me, that hurts.
So now I make a promise: The more sick I get, the more unfiltered I'm gonna be. "But Julie! That's not like you! You're better than this!" Fuck that. I'm tired of performing to everyone else's expectations. That's part of what got me into this health mess in the first place.
And yes, I use the word "perform" deliberately. I jump through the hoops. I get stuff done at the last minute, I take on the jobs that other people drop in order to keep up with a contractual obligation.
Yes, I'm venting. What I really need is a good cry, but I don't have the time. I tried yesterday, but managed about three tears.
So yeah. Comments are closed.