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Also, after this weekend, I only get two days off until May. That sucks.
Trying to ward off a sulky case of the depressing blues. I feel unmotivated, fat, easily disliked, sensitive, and prone to fits of being overly lonely. I hate working overtime like this. I always get sick.
Come play with me Piper, I'll keep you from getting lonely!
Although, I second all of the above you mentioned. Not used to living by myself, and my stuffed tiger has been getting a lot more hugs than usual.
Of course, the second I started living alone the isolation would drive me completely batshit crazy. I can't handle a lack of people. Even if I never talk to them and I never see them, I am much less crazy just having someone living in the same house, knowing they're there than how I get when I'm alone. Not that I've ever been alone for more than a few days at a time--but my point stands. >.>
Otherwise, my rage is that this job is going to kill me. The job itself is easy enough/not hard/not bad, but I have to get up at 5am to have time to eat breakfast, walk to the bus-stop, take three buses, and walk two miles to get to work on time at 11, which goes till 9pm most days, and I work six days a week--on the rare case that I work five days a week, I work an hour over monday, tuesday, and wednesday. Then I Aetolia for 2-5 hours, take a nap and do it all over again. I'm perpetually tired, exhausted, irritable, drained and just lacking in general will. And while I could sacrifice some Aet for more sleep--it doesn't help. Even on days when I come home and just immediately curl up in bed with cats and go comatose, I'm still exhausted.
I feel like secretly praying that whatever magic is making me excel at this job despite sucking at all of its core requirements goes away so they fire me and I have an excuse to stop working there so I have -time- to look for another job.
At the same time, I'm really glad I have a consistent, stable job, it just...doesn't pay me enough to live on my own (especially not since I require internets) closer to the work location--and see the afforementioned thing about living by myself and going nuts even if it did.
OH right, I cam here to hate.
I HATE boxing. I specifically hate when a company who shall not be named has a tech issue with ordering boxing matches and I spend 6 hours on a day I am already -barely able to talk- ordering one ppv fight after another in an endless sea of panicked boxing lovers. It's just people punching each other, man, it'll be alright. Also hate that said calls make me not able to take the calls which actually -pay- me, so I lost six hours of follow-ups and good calls to pad next month's paycheck with. Which will help me handle the extra bills arising from the hopefully-soon-to-be-former roomie moving out.
Also - day 12 of death plague. Death plague probably causing me to lose my -actual- vacation because I had to use vacation time to be a lifeless husk at home for a week. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
My own mad... starting to absolutely hate my job. At the point now where I'm sitting in my car in the parking lot and debating just going back home. Unfortunately, I need to work.
Wrong. Everything [read: everything bad] that ever happens anywhere... is Xavin's fault. That's like, one of the known truths of the universe.
Only I am allowed to say this.