Nov. 23rd, 2004

blustocking: (Default)
I'm extremely tired and in a foul, roller-coaster mood. One of those where the littlest things can PISS YOU THE FUCK OFF, extremely so. Like the fact that people call for the stinking agents here at work and they're never here and if I have to repeat "So and So is not here right now, would you like their cell number or voice mail" one more time. But it's not Medicare...it's not Medicare...I will keep my mantra close.

I feel like shit. But not the kind of shit where I expect, or want, sympathy (FUCK I HATE LAPTOPS). I feel like a jerk. Like a total jerk, who's remarkably inconsistent, yet whose inconsistencies make sense to myself. I feel like raging. Raging against the fucking idiots in the world AND THE GODDAMNED PHONE. GAAAAAWD I HATE THE RINGING. STATE YOUR BUSINESS WENCH.

I'm a horrible person and I sometimes wish men knew better than to love me. In fact, I don't want to deal with that, at all. NO ONE will live up to my standards, I'm judgmental, and I wouldn't let them in anyway.
Nyah.

I haven't been keeping track, but hopefully this is PMS combined with lack of sleep. Luckily, it usually only lasts one day and I'm going to go home and take a nap after work.

It's taking entirely too much effort to be nice to people today.
And seriously, it's Pavlovian, my response to the phone. It rings, I grind my teeth, curse, and flip the phone off....for ringing. Bit over the top, doncha think?

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