Seriously, could someone just hand me a gun and let me get it over with? I might not shoot myself, but I feel a "going postal" moment coming on.
I think I am in some sort of "stuck" phase of crabbiness. It seems as if the last few days I have been the most unenjoyable person to be around. This is so not like me. Honestly, I don't even want to hang out with myself.
The last two days I have been training Hitler the boss. It's been about as much fun as getting eaten alive by wolves. She just doesn't get it. It's amazes me to no end that she makes as much money as she does. Breathe deep, calm breaths. And think "only 8 more weeks." I keep telling myself that.............hmmmmm, it's not working.
I'm stressed. So many changes. So little time. I'm looking for a night job. Holy Hell, that is hard! I've been working Monday through Friday .......oh, for 9 years now. The night jobs just aren't jumping out at me and saying, "I'M THE ONE." I've applied to three places. And it makes me feel weird I haven't even gotten a call back yet. I know, I know. Don't give up. But, I want to. I want to hide in my comfortable-ness with a good book and pretend I don't exist right now. I need a vacation. Oh wait, those costs money.
There's my bitch session for the day.
Another thing: Gray hair, wrinkles, and a million zits do not belong on the same face. I am under so much stress that I have counted over 7 zits staring at me in the mirror today. Yes, over 7.