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2001-08-29 / 1:25 p.m. ~Major Angst~ I'm at work. Really, that should say it all, that should speak fucking volumes! I checked my email, on my break, on the ONE computer in this whole place that they let us use to access the 'net. ONE for some hundred or so people. Nice, generous, huh? Right, so a few people have been reading my diary, and even signed my guestbook, and that's nice, thanks guys. Sure, I want the attention, sure, wasn't automouse 100% correct in his educated assessment of my psychological makeup after all. Sure, sure, I live my life online, sure, sure, I crave fucking attention. See me, notice me, love me. Yada, yada, yada. I just had a real dick call me up, and not the kind of dick I've been craving, no, an asshole dick, a fuckhead who said, "Typical response" when I admitted to not having knowledge of some stupid issue. "When will that address change show up on my check?" "Well, Payroll will have access to this update within 24 hours, but I don't know what day they print your paycheck". Honest, to the point, all the info I have. Oh no, not good enough. I hate this job. I'm serious. This is a last straw kind of day, a breaking point kind of day, a me being close to tears because I am so frustrated I can hardly stand it kind of day. (Oh, and the constant Linda bullshit doesn't help either, to have this evil vibe right next to me, her not talking to me, not looking at me, avoiding me, purposefully, all day every day, humming maniacally, laughing her evil little laugh, me actually "hating" her, is sapping something from me) What precipitated it? For all you auotmouses out there, well, let's see, as if you can't figure it out already�we didn't win the lottery. Duh. The saddest thing is I really thought we might, what with 17 chances and all. No, there's no way out. I've heard nothing about the job I applied for, and that sucks, majorly sucks. It's with Earthlink. I'd love to work for them, I think. I've heard and read nothing but good things about that company, and they have a really lax dress code. This I know. It's a lateral move, I have no idea the salary, but it's something I want, a change.
Nothing. Yesterday was high energy, too much, more than just caffeine could provide. No explanation. Manic depression. Today I feel ill, enervated, hot, feverish, achy, hot throat. Typical, a lowering of immune function precipitated by intense physical energy. Very common, with me. What does it mean? Oh, nothing, I simply skipped taking my vitamins a couple nights recently and this is my body saying, "Wha�?". Fun. Okay, I'm better. See how writing can be therapeutic? Plus, I've taken about 5 or 6 phone calls just since I started furiously typing this. Better. What happened, aside from feeling like crap physically, was that I let slip I'm looking for another job, basically just to Lulu, but well, my voice carries when I'm passionate, and well, it carried, and well, everyone heard, so I had to adopt the I Don't Give A Fuck attitude, but then I started in with the Well, if they fire me for looking elsewhere I can collect unemployment, right????, attitude. Long story longer�so, I'm at the printer, printing an envelope, and I'm not even looking at my supervisor, but she is talking, obviously so I can hear her, right? She is saying, "Well, guess I'd better finish reading the paper, someone might want to look at the Classifiieds�", and I think this is nasty, she is directing this to me, in her own sarcastic way, afraid to approach me directly, so I say, Look, I know you heard me, I can't help my voice carrying, and you KNOW I am unhappy here. So I come back to my cube and I am close to tears and suddenly, once again, gee what a surprise, I am insanely depressed. Joy, joy, up, down, aren't we having fun? I do want to change, I do, I am trying, I am beginning to try, I've applied for three or four jobs this year, that's more than last year, I can't even get an interview, but I won't give up yet. I'm through with this, this is my entry for lunchtime, when I go home I'll upload it, but this sucks, and I do apologize to anyone looking for a vicarious thrill. I'll write more about my love of the male genitalia later, how would that be? Insert your own winkie smilie emoticon right about here. (Actually, as I've stated previously, a good fuck would help immensely) Cost of the War in Iraq
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