A post in which I am just out of sorts

This post is just bitchy and whiny. You have been warned.

I woke up at 2:30am. I had terrible indigestion. I got up to get a glass of water, and as I walked through the kitchen, walked through a puddle of mystery water in the floor. The garbage bag had sprung a leak again. Not an auspicious way to start the day. I set the garbage can outside, wiped up the floor, washed my feet, and resolved to deal with it tomorrow. I got my water and went back to bed.

Where sleep did not come. I was really tired, but also bloated and angry. I started thinking about the fact that my boss had volunteered me to come in early on Friday to meet with Jeff. I honestly wouldn't have minded if there was any purpose to it, but there isn't. I've already provided all the documents and details to him on the upcoming case. However, true to form, he's probably lost them and forgotten the salient points; so I'll have to go in early to repeat work I've already done. I'm caught up in his trying to paint a picture of frenzied activity on a case that we will lose. Because we are wrong. But such is the life of a favored attorney I suppose.

Eventually, I just got up and went online for a while. But I went back to bed, and actually slept after a while. The last hour I dreamed that I had to pee really badly, but everywhere I went I was interrupted or unable to go. When I woke up, I realized it was because I really had to pee - badly.

I felt drug out and sleepy. I made a big cup of coffee and went outside on the porch for a cigarette, but really couldn't enjoy it. I just needed it. I was aggravated. And out of sorts still. And impatient with myself. I have it so easy compared to so many people. I have too much to eat and many go to bed hungry at night. I have a job that sustains me, and many do not. I have friends and family who love me. But somehow counting my blessings today didn't make me feel grateful - it just made me feel more impatient with myself. And ungrateful to boot.

I don't know where this is coming from. I guess it could be leftover M rejection stuff I haven't dealt with. I just feel like I am right back where I have been for so long. I don't feel like I have any hope. And I should. I have a lot going for me. I just can't find the strength to be optimistic today.

I wallowed in some Annie Lennox music while I got ready for work, and listened to a blues song I like on the way to work. As sometimes happens, just giving in to the mood for a while made me feel a bit better. When I got to work Jeannette firmed up plans to go to Latin Express for breakfast on Saturday. So what if I am to be unwillingly ripped from my bed tomorrow? I have something to look forward to now, at least.

I had planned a more quiet day today. I was finally able to send out the weekly presentation this morning. But this afternoon I ended up doing flak work for another manager, who has apparently decided that since he is incompetent I should act as his de facto secretary. I sent a letter for him yesterday, and today he suddenly decided he needed me to do another one. I'm seeing a trend here. He is a relentless sponger, and will never learn to do something he can get someone else to do. Personally, I would be embarrassed to admit that I couldn't write and scan a simple business letter, but of course we're not talking about me.

Then the big boss decided to change the rules for the weekly presentation. Again. Making it more complicated, and involving details on more accounts. And of course my boss wanted this week's presentation mocked up to see how the new specs would change it. So I started doing it again. For the third fucking time this week. I feel like Sisyphus, doomed to do the same thing, over and over again, for eternity. I really wouldn't mind doing this thing once a week, but now it never seems to end from one week to the next. There are just endless updates, revisions, and further details to gather. I'm finding it really hard to care. It doesn't matter how good it is, it's all just going to have to be done yet again anyway. And it really serves no purpose. It's just slicing and dicing the numbers different ways to appease my boss's endless hard-on for yet more numbers. Sigh.

I pulled the numbers and started all over again. It'll be there tomorrow, yet another rock to push to the top of the hill. Just like the day before. And hey, I'll be there early after all, so I'll have plenty of time, right?

The woman in California who had launched a campaign of purposeful ineptitude achieved her goal today. She no longer has to do the status for their accounts. At least I won't have to deal with her any longer.

Needless to say, I was ready to leave when time was up tonight. But as I got into my car, Russ called to cancel my haircut for tonight. He had done everyone up until me, but decided he couldn't stay any longer. I'm afraid I wasn't very gracious to him. His father is dying, and I know he has a lot going on right now. But I'm just a pig today. So now I feel guilty too. Yeah, that was a perfect ending. I thought.

I decided I was not going to go back in and work out today. I'll do it tomorrow, but I just couldn't make myself get out of the car and walk back in. Home and peace sounded lovely. But when I got to the freeway, of course there was an endless traffic jam that had, as usual, turned Highway 85 into a parking lot. I just pulled off the road and read in a parking lot for about an hour until the traffic started moving again.

I finally got home about 7, ate some supper (for some reason, although I ate like a pig last night, I've been ravenous all day today), did some wash, and tended to the garbage can. I guess fate threw me a bone - the bag wasn't leaking. But when I got to the big garbage can, the men had left it open on Monday. It had gathered rainwater, stunk to high heaven, and was filled with huge, fat, disgusting larvae of some kind. I dumped it all out and then went back to the house, gagging at the stench.

And tomorrow is another day. At least we get paid tomorrow. Visa loves it when I get paid. I'm planning on being lazy this weekend. I have breakfast out Saturday morning with Jeannette. I see Russ later that day for a haircut - maybe he and Billy will feel well enough to do something that night.

I live in hope that I will wake up on a better side of the bed tomorrow, early or not.