Saturday, March 20, 2004

Ever just have one of those days? I've been at work going on twelve hours which was a mistake on my part.

But of course earlier everything went to hell in a handbasket. Then threatened to again (it was a false alarm, windoze blue screen of death as opposed to whole network crashing) I start to relax. Then because I am a good enough drone that I do customer service without bitching overmuch, I am on the phone with some bitch who cannot answer a.)a direct question, b.)seem to have any idea how badly she is fucking up her own account. And c.) the worst, a huge ability to point the finger at me.

Not at the company or at the software or at network gremlins who make things crash. No at me.

Somehow I've waved my magic wand and seem to give enough of a shit about this chick to actually do something to make her account not work.


Add to that, I can't finish the candy bar my honey bought me because my stomach is upset.

Now something else isn't working right and I'm all freaked out trying to pin it down and it turns out there's no actual way I could have figured it out anyway.


Then I page the wrong person.

It's 5 oclock in the motherfucking morning and I page the wrong person. Granted he's a very nice man who didn't yell at me but still.

Then i talk to not the person I paged but his wife. Talking to me like I don't know how to do my damn job.


I have got some raging PMS, I feel like stepped on shit and I'm supposed to be going to my parents house to get presents today but no. I'm going to be too fucking tired and wibbly to do so.


Just not my fucking night.

And now I'm embarassed because when the wrongly paged person called back I almost burst into tears.

I am NOT that female.

I do not break into tears at every sign of stress at work. In fact I think I've cried all of two times in the almost four years I've worked here. And only one was actually work related.

But I was working alone so you didn't see anything did ya punchy?

I need to go home, take a bath. Get into reading some lovely book that takes me away. Finish my fucking website. Stop saying FUCK for five motherfucking minutes. And maybe have a cry.

That's one thing about me that I don't quite get. I don't cry very often. In fact as a friend pointed out the other day I tend to be either rather stoic in the face of big emotional/mental ouchies. Or I get mean.

Well this bitch needs to cry.

Actually for once I think it would make me feel better.

But I honestly deep down hate to cry with a serious passion. Like a HUGE bad no crying sort of feelng.

Oh and the mania descends.

I'll crash and burn in a few hours just watch me.

For now I'm going to go smoke a fucking cigarette before I throw myself out of my office chair and onto the floor kicking and screaming. So yeah.

Nudiebeasty(not quite feeling Muse-ish today) needs a fucking time out.

And a bum rub.

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