Crappy Pants(less)
It's a gray, dreary day here and that mimics my mood. I'm sneezy and headachy and crabby and cold. I have to bite my tongue so often that I implode at times. Now is one of those times. I'm all rage-y and wanting to lash out. I want to go over and shake certain people - do your fucking job! Give a little! Quit fucking writing long emails that don't say anything and do what you get paid to do! I won't, though. So the rage will just boil up within.
For instance, my boss. She asked three of us early this week to set up meetings with her - each person for 30 minutes on Wednesday and each person for 30 minutes on Friday. I did as told. She then declined my Wednesday meeting, stating she'd be out of the office. Hmm...good thing your calendar was FREE, or we could have avoided this. So she told me my Wednesday mtg could be moved to Thursday. Except...you guessed it, she's out of the office today. She didn't tell us she's out of the office, and her calendar certainly wasn't blocked. So, yeah. Great. Thanks for making me take my time to find a fucking mtg room and schedule us TWICE for nothing.
I used to wait for the weekends to pass by and Monday to come 'round again. Monday was when I was social; I saw people at school, at work, during the week, and lived a solitary life on the weekends. Now, though, I just want Friday afternoon to come, so I can curl up in bed with the magazines that have piled up. Maybe I'll get up to make some hot cocoa; maybe I'll spend a few minutes cleaning. Maybe I will order in food and not leave the warmth of my pajamas and bed the entire weekend.
I'm having underwear issues lately. I might have to go commando today.
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