The days roll on and the the work continues to overwhelm and exhaust. 11 hour days and I still touch nothing on my desk because there’s all this new shit, new tasks, now right now stuff to do. I just watch my inbox begin to spill onto my piles of piles and I think if I got stress hives like my co-worker, now would be the time to get them.
She, unfortunately, really got on my last of the last nerve today. I didn’t yell at her, but I came pretty damn close. I could hear my voice become curt and short and tinged with GTFO and that, at least, felt a little empowering. I was overly aware of how infantile she can be, how every time I come down the hallway she needs a hug, or knowing that I am dealing with a thousand things, she needs reassurance on how new boss isn’t casting her out because she has some bizarre labyrinthine conspiracy built up in her mind that it will take one word from boss (or me, whom she calls boss, though it isn’t true) and she’ll forget the whole matter. Or how many times a day she has to fly into my office to shred something no matter what in the hell I might be doing – even with a sign up on the door that says we’re working to meet deadlines.
Someone’s resume came in, but I didn’t scuttle into my boss’ office to take a peek because it doesn’t matter. I will be gone.
I have to get at least a hundred words down before I heed the call my body is sending out and lay down and close my eyes. I really can’t do that because I feel far too close to the edge of sleep and if I just keel over I will be out like a light and today will have an even greater, even redder FAIL stamp pressed all over it. I just want to be able to look at myself and say I accomplished what I needed to do on a regular basis. Feeling like you’re always behind the 8-ball has taken a damn toll on me, that’s for sure.
Tomorrow, probably the last time I will ever see crush du jour, the no longer community service, now just a dude who wants to help us and who has regular jokes with current boss. I can’t complain that she gets to have a rapport. I could have a rapport if I stopped walking away from him to do other things. There’s just so many damn things to do. Not that any of it matters. I just want to observe him. I will say hello if prompted, if not retardedly busy as is unavoidable. I will sigh and complain when I come home. These are the laws of the universe.
My last big event at my job is tomorrow. I will get through it as I have gotten through all the rest and then, come home and sort out what to have them do to my hair on Sunday. G’ night.