Today was one of those rare days where we ventured into civilization and got to eat at a restaurant and see some sun.

A bunch of old colleagues are in town. Sitting at our table at the local veggie-burger joint (I do love South Florida!), I saw familiar faces of boys I used to know, running up and hugging me. I was overjoyed.

I’ve had it beyond up-to-here with certain current colleagues. People who don’t give a fucking shit about how many hours I work and how 40 of those hours are spent dicking around with their impossible processes and another 40 hours are dedicated to doing what I was hired to do.

Like, today I blew a fuse. Tears and all. I don’t know how I can ask for something a month ago that was due last Friday that was requested thanks to MULTIPLE customers writing in, and suddenly it’s all, well, we need 40 hours to do it and BOY WILL IT COST YOUR DEPARTMENT. So I sent the thing live (with my own personal workaround that customers, if they don’t love it, they at least haven’t written in to bitch about it) without fucking with these idiots, and AMAZINGLY five hours later said 40-hour project was DONE I TELL YOU DONE.

This is someone I consider a friend, by the way. Lord help me with those who don’t worship the ground I walk on.

My boss keeps wanting to talk about compensation and other things that I just don’t want to talk about. Yes I want more. But with more “stuff” comes … what? More than 75 hours a week at the office … more weekends … more years of feeling tethered when my sky-high rent and “paying every single one of my mother’s bills in addition to mine” isn’t enough of an electronic leash?

I have had enough. I don’t love this anymore. I need a break. I can’t work with mediocre people who continue to get in my way and I lose days’ worth of time chasing them down so I can do my job. Spending all that time riding THEIR asses means I’m chronically behind. And I am one anxiety attack away from a padded room. I can’t take the pressure anymore. I don’t know what’s going to be left of me but I can assure you it ain’t going to be much.

I’m thinking of seeing the Nutcracker and going to the Met while I’m in New York. And fuck everybody — I am booking that ticket and I will be DAMNED if I wait for certain departments to get their thumbs out of their butts to give my lone staff member the technology to be me for a day.

My grandmother always said that I couldn’t say “shit” even if I had a mouthful. NO MORE. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. I am so sick of everybody’s SHIT and I will be DAMNED if I keep tiptoeing around that fact.

I was reading a chapter out of James Altucher’s newest book and he asked us to name five people for whom we’re grateful right now. He emphasized, “Not in the past … or in the future … NOW.”

I draw a blank. I have past people and I have people whom I hope won’t totally fuck me over in the future. But right now? I’m hard-pressed. And that’s sad.

Lord, I haven’t talked to you in quite some time. But please, please show me five people for whom I should be grateful. And if there aren’t any (or enough), please reveal them to me so that I can show them my gratitude for being there when the rest of the world gets to go on with their lives while mine slips away unnoticed …

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