need. new. brain. 04.01.06 11:24 a.m.
Clearly, clearly something is driving me insane. The new birth control? The Lady Bits Problem of Doom? The eviljob/evilboss? The immediate need for food? We may never know. All that is important right now is that (once again) I feel like I am losing what precious sanity I have left.
It's hard to explain, really. But basically, I can't focus on a damned thing right now. I keep thinking over and over about how I need to get the fuck out of this job forever, spend a month at home doing housework and writing and sewing, and possibly spending twenty-four hours in a monastery (or anywhere else they allow you to be silent and isolated for a full day). I look at my paperwork and think, "I have no purpose in life; I am seen as a robot by my peers; I am a lab experiment observed and tested upon by an even larger, more intelligent ape."
I'm scared of not having a job. I am also scared of staying in this one forever. In fact, I'm afraid of anything called a "job." I'm a great believer in the notion that it's not a job if you love what you're doing. Now, to become one of those rare people who loves what they do for a living. Yeah, um, that's a long, hard path. Not that I won't take it, but I am scared to take the first step because I only very recently (was bailed) out of debt. I am so not eager to go back there.
Time is not moving quickly enough today. It's only 11.38? Jeez, it feels like 2pm, at least. I am so antsy and uncomfortable. Let this be a lesson to you all: Do not remain at a job once you get that first inkling that it's not all kosher behind the scenes. If your boss behaves rudely or sketchily or unprofessionally in any way, and after one failed attempt to reconcile/redeem/repair the situation, get the hell out. Just trust me. Do not, under any poverty circumstances, stay there and allow yourself to be morally and intellectually beaten into a pulp.
I've been trying to devise a list of things to finish up before I hand in my resignation letter (for which I have given myself a deadline of next Friday to do), but really, just thinking about my tasks here is enough to make me feel like a lonely ninth-grader, and I long for some Nine Inch Nails and clove cigarettes. Or something.
Egads! My manager just came into my cubicle as I was typing and scared the living hell out of me. And of course, like a tool, I minimized all my windows in a panic. Then I had to re-open Firefox to look something up for him. My nerves are shot today.
Maybe it's the new contraceptives, maybe it's the Lady Problems, maybe it's just the job; all I know is that I'm losing my freakin' marbles.
listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)
previously on Smothered Hope:
unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08