I am really tired of having to care about everyone’s everything. It’s pretty clear they don’t want to know/care about mine.
Maybe I’m just upset that I could have left at 5 today — a rarity in and of itself — but a three-hour meeting ended that dream.
Maybe I’m upset that I just called India (i.e., Comcast) and talked to someone who makes Fifty First Dates seem like the smartest person on earth. (And no they didn’t fix my problem.)
Maybe I’m annoyed that two people are going on vacation tomorrow and I got a lecture that I need to train my people and trust them for me to take a day off. Because THAT isn’t an epic fail in progress.
(Thank you to the guy who tried to slip Goldman BallSachs through my editing filter today. I’d complain but it brought me some perverse joy. It’s the little things.)
I was reminded of the vacation to Paris I was promised that I turned down because, reality. I still haven’t taken a day off. And I’m losing two solid months of vacation on my anniversary date in two weeks.
So no actually I really don’t care about everybody’s everything. Or anybody’s anything. I just want something of my own that I’m not borrowing from someone else or otherwise having to lie to myself about to not think too hard about it.
I really am just out of fucks to give. I would hate everyone and their everything if I could be arsed to feign that much of an interest.