Your cocktail sir,





2004-07-09 - 8:31 p.m.

Itís 8pm on a Friday and Iíve been here at the office for going on 13 hours now. I should be angrier about things but at this point, Iím too tired. Iím actually more annoyed at the sore spot on my tongue from eating too many salt and vinegar potato chips. Iíve actually, over the course of my time back here, have gotten the entire crew addicted to the tangy flavor. A small victory in an otherwise empty trophy case I suppose. Which, I think is a song lyric but Iím to lazy to fact check and at this point, to tired to really care.

I donít like staying this late at work, and it really bothers me that I canít get my crew straightened out enough so that these kinds of nights donít happen. But it seems like they always do and I have to give up my Saturdayís to clean up and deliver the cars that we stay late tonight to paint. I donít know how to break the cycle. Or even what is causing it. I no doubt would be doing little to nothing at home, and at least here I can do some minor productive things, like getting my paperwork done, but it still feels like I am giving up way to much for little to no compensation. The juvenile, ďItís not fairĒ argument comes to mind.

Itís actually the reason that I donít write as much as I used to. Unlike other jobs, where there were insane situations and wacky things to deal with, or at the very least I wasnít as exhausted on a daily basis as I am now. I find that I am one of those writers who need to be outraged, pressed in on all sides by life and squeezing out the good bits. Now though, Iím just, blah. I need to find that part of me that cares, that hasnít been worn out by events and can still muster up enough passion for things to get me out of this slump. I know that it worries my family, in between all the other events that are going on. Which is actually good. For a while I was having nightmares and there was no wedding or sister going into a third world country to distract everyone from my unhappiness. I should be grateful that I have the family I do, that genuinely cares about me and the issues that I face. But Iím not. Or, Iím not sure how I feel about it. Which is probably more my problem than anything else. Iím like a moping 13 year old who is never happy even when I get everything I want.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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