Nov 10th, 2009 3:36:52 pm - Subscribe

It makes me cry.


I've been listening to The Beatles all morning. It's nearly all-encompassing. I feel overwhelmed today. I feel like not enough today. I feel.

I want to sleep for weeks, eat for days, and cry until my eyes ooze from my face. This irrational depressive state is starting to wear at my nerves. As if it is any sort of positive for me.

I would prefer to go home, instead of moping at work. I could finish my book. I could have a nap. I could...

Well. Really. The possibilities are nearly unending.

Remember, Remember the fifth of November.
The gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
should ever be forgot...
Remembrance Day soon approaches. I wonder about how the world has changed so drastically for us. How there is no forcible enlistment. No sad war-torn families. No weeping widows, commonly on the corners.

And yet. And yet.

Sadness is perpetual. At least at times of war, there is hope. And a nation pulls together...

What do we have now. Besides Fat, Consumeristic Complacency?

Depression.
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Oct 22nd, 2009 5:52:19 pm - Subscribe

That's how I fucking feel.

Meeting here at 7:15, but you also have cover this shift at the centre until lunch time, but I'm going to need you to stop and get these picked up form the copier on the westend before noon, and be to the presentation by 12:20. Did I mention that your coworker called in sick and you have to do it by yourself?

I am streched. I also have three classes during the week, Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday. I'm going to the gym, and I still manage to spend time with the family. I am multi-tasking.

Sure I don't see my man much right now. He's working later than I am, and all we have energy to do is to go to bed when it's all said and done.

But everything will balance right? I don't remember ever being this constantly busy. Training soon, Montreal again. Then again in the spring.

I just want some sweet sweet lovin'. A free latte every once in awhile. Traffic to not be a bitch first thing in the morning.

And above all...

One quiet fucking night.
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Oct 1st, 2009 10:53:02 pm - Subscribe

My sister got engaged.
Yup.


I am thrilled for her, though at the same time can't help but wonder...

WHY MUST I ENDURE ALL THIS FUCKING WEDDING TALK?

What sort of satan tortures like this?
The fucking worst kind.
That's what.


If they get married in Europe, I don't think I can go. I can't afford that.

Not with the current price of a Latte.
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Sep 23rd, 2009 5:27:21 pm - Subscribe

Despite how well we sell ourselves, our program; something always leads to another. Can you be here, at this time? Can you cover this persons' slack, can you pull your priorities here, and make time for this appointment?

Multitasking never was a strong suit of mine, but then again, neither was saying no. So, I suppose that would be why I am in the predicament that I am in currently.

Self inflicted, as always. Overwhelmed and loving it, Hating commuter traffic and all those lovely things like cyclists, pedestrians and gas prices that make the drive home that much more sweaty and loverly.

Andrea, you cannot save them all, no matter how many appointments you make, and extra shifts you pull. Save yourself instead.

That would be the best advice I could give myself, if only I wasn't so stubborn to pay attention.

Hey.

The big people are talking, and you need to focus.
Take notes.
Do whatever you need to do, to understand.

The new twist in my job has me extraordinarily busy, and is killing my slacker tendancies. The divorce that is murdering my brother is draining me emotionally, and I wish he'd just come stay with me until it was all over. And I move into our house in twelve days, you'd never know though because I have yet to pack a single fucking box. I am exhausted, and exhilerated all at once. Spelling mistakes are an added bonus.
You can have those,
for free...

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Sep 14th, 2009 4:18:11 pm - Subscribe

I must be an adult.

I have a parking pass for downtown - man, I am a high-roller.


Like the fucking Bill Gates of the non-profit world.

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