I think this means they like me.
They really like me.
But somebody who really doesn't like me is all too present in my daily life. My coworker and fellow info desk mate. Except that I've been banished from the info desk and made to do drudgery out on the floor with the student workers. My silence, absence from life and blogger, and misery of late are largely the result of the problems I've been having at work.
It isn't safe to get into the details here, but I can explore the impact the unpleasantness has had on my personal life. This is pretty much all I think and talk about now. I've been having anxiety and dread attacks, something that I've been largely without since I started my meds back in 2008. I've been depressed, sulking, binge eating, and over-sleeping, all things that I had lassoed under control in recent months. I went off my meds because I felt stronger and ready to confront the world without 'em. Now I feel like I'm sliding back into the abyss. I can't even enjoy the progress I've been making in my life.
Work, never a fun time, has become the number one source of anxiety. Physically being there is making me physically sick. Dealing with the power politics, bullshit, and abuse has exhausted me.
Lady, you are cramping my style.
And why? All in the name of being the facebook queen of the kingdom? To assert your power, and be the only one allowed to plant turnips or corn in farmville? Trust me, I have no intentions of dethroning you as queen of the manure patch. But there ain't no one gonna talk to me like that.
***
It looks like if I decide to go back to school next year I will be doing so strictly between the hours of 6-10 pm, and working the delightful 9-5. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of working 9-5 everyday for extended periods of time, that is a third of your day. Minus the third you would ideally spend sleeping, 2 hour commutes, preparation to face the world time, time spent acquiring and eating the food you need to survive, and going to the bathroom, that leaves you with about 4 hours of actual living time. Notice how I've cut back on preparation to face the world time? No big deal? OK, do that for 2 years. 3 years. No flextime. No rearranging your schedule to accomplish more. No doing your job in exotic places. All in order to collect a fraction of the money it takes to do pretty much anything in the First World.
I'm not blaming you. I just think you should properly understand the situation. And quit acting like everybody chooses their lot in life. And quit expecting me not to be crabby. I am crabby.
***
On a lighter note, it's almost my birthday. That's a good thing, right?
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