Sometime around Monday afternoon this week, “the dread” started in the pit of my stomach. The thought of dragging my ass out of bed at 6am and stumbling into the shower and to my car to be to work at 8 was depressing. Vacations are good for making you feel that way, but when you hate your job as much as I do, coming back from lunch is a huge trial. I can’t even explain how nine days of freedom and then being hurled back into the pits of hell feels.
And just as I thought, yesterday was painful and irritating. I was too tired and lazy to get out of bed at a decent time, so I ran behind and barely got to work on time (which actually worked better for me than today’s plan did). Yep, just in time for two billion phone calls from the same three psychos all day and the irritating hyena laugh of The Hag (term of…endearment…or…the opposite of that). It was a true test of character not to knock anyone out. And it all just goes to show what kind of person I am. I am fantastic and patient and not at all violent. (heh, heh.)
But my thoughts now, there is another issue entirely. Because the things I have said and done to people in my thoughts…whoa.
Either way, I am here. At work. Working (obviously taking a break at the moment, but…you get it) and praying with every fiber of my being that something better comes around…sometime within the next 15-20 minutes to save the poor souls of the bystanders.
Get me out of here.