The Bloody Doors Off

Where’s the fucking reset button? I spent an hour in the waiting room waiting for my Doctor who’s a no-show; I bail and later get 2 messages from him wondering where I am and telling me I have to pay for the missed appointment. The agency is talking about docking my pay AGAIN because apparently they don’t know they ALREADY took back the overpayment (THIS is why I wanted a payment schedule, so I wouldn’t have to fucking get on their ass about this) and my sore throat is turning into a cough.

I’m supposed to have a date today but have to cancel because mentally I’m crashing down.

Today was the kind of Rockwell painting kind of day, but with a 21st century upgrade.

All hail the Chosen One. 🙂

I’m fighting off a summer cold. The weather sucks.

I suppose if this is my major bitching point for a Sunday, that’s not too bad.

Able to upgrade to a colour laser printer today for the business. Finally decided it’s necessary. I did a freebee poster for a friend and decided after I saw it printed properly that I could’ve made it look better. It’s not enough to view it on screen. I need to be sure of the product I’m completing. I’d rather save the money, but like I said, it’s necessary.

Finding it harder to part with cash. Being on the brink of poverty for over a year will do that to you. I don’t envy friends who still are, and wish I could help. But I’m still at that level where things could go either way. Fucking anxiety.

Got in to the office, logged in, and got an apology from yesterday.

I got asked to work late. Not a problem; I hadn’t worked OT in weeks and there was nothing on my schedule.

But the work itself. Man. One client gave opaque instructions to begin with (through a third person). Did it to company standards. Only that wasn’t what he wanted. So he provided another scratched version (again through an intermediary). Did the best I could and sent it back.

And then came the email. He was pissed because clearly I couldn’t read his mind or understand what he hadn’t explained. I’ve heard about this guy. You don’t give him exactly what he wants, he goes ballistic. I fucking hate clients like this. You always find one in a large company.

I had to hand the map off to someone else to work on. Because I couldn’t handle the anger. His, and a bit of mine.

Don’t like how that shit can affect me. It gets me pissed off, and then I shut down because if I don’t, I explode. And blowing up is never a good thing.

But of course it marinated in my brain pan all night.

I need to learn to let this shit go. It’s not good for my mental health.

You don’t want to be in my head right now. It’s not a good place to be.

In the primordial ooze

That is my brain

I taste light

And make thunderous applause

At the notion

Tomorrow is another

Chance.

I did that thing, and they said ha, so I did the opposite, and they said huh, and I couldn’t figure out what was the right way to go so I just stepped to the left and days later I was thinking what was i thinking?

No, this doesn’t make sense.

I need to trust my gut more. It never lies.

I need to write more; it’s cathartic.

I should write this blog earlier in the evening when I’m not so tired. It’d make more sense.

I wish I could sleep through the entire night.

I need to stop fearing that a shoe will drop, and try to be happy.

If I wasn’t on so many damned pills. I worry sometimes they contradict each other.

So tired. Happy. Tired.