Oh, woe is me, etc
I feel craptastic right now.
So, the following bad things happened to me today:
- I got chili in my nose and it hurt like balls (not the first time something like this has happened, either)
- I also got chili under my fingernail, and this also hurt like balls
- I stubbed my toe coming up the stairs to the flat and now it won't bend properly and, funnily enough, hurts like balls
Also, I woke up with a headache - which has been happening for, like, a week now, and the headache myseriously lifts as soon as I leave work. This is because work is both boring and stressful and therefore headache-inducing.
The thing is, right, I really hate my job, and I wonder, am I being naive for wishing I had a job I enjoyed? I mean, very few people I know have jobs they really love, and at least I earn enough to live on and all that stuff - but then again they mostly don't have jobs that lead to them getting headaches just thinking about being at work, or mean they occasionally go home in tears. At the weekend, one of my buddies from Uni was in town, and the old crowd all met up for lunch on the Sunday, and I mentioned how I hate Sundays because I am sort of constantly aware the whole day of how I have to be at work the next day and how this will blow. And my friends don't feel that, but I always thought that was pretty normal.
I am a miserable bastard, is the truth.
And also, my job is like being in purgatory. On really bad days I actually find myself wondering - in all seriousness - if I've died at some point without realising it, and this job is my eternal torment, which is why I can't seem to get another one. (And I'm a really quite staunch atheist.)
Blah. I'm just feeling a bit crap about stuff right now, because I don't feel I've ever really achieved anything worthwhile, and all the stuff I want to do with my life - like travel the world and live abroad at least once and, you know, just be happy, at least some of the time - well, I haven't done any of it and I have this constant feeling I'm too old and it's too late.
Boo hoo.
Maybe I should start seeing a counsellor again. The thing is, I don't want to go back on the antidepressants - because they don't actually make me happy and calm - they wrap the depression and the mania up in cotton wool, so I can't really think at all, and therefore am not sad or hyper by default. All I know is, I get my best writing and music and stuff done when my head is actually in a bad place.
Hmmph.
It's all mixed up anyway. It's not really about the stubbed toe or the chili in painful places at all.
Bollocks.
Enough of this rubbish. I'm off.
So, the following bad things happened to me today:
- I got chili in my nose and it hurt like balls (not the first time something like this has happened, either)
- I also got chili under my fingernail, and this also hurt like balls
- I stubbed my toe coming up the stairs to the flat and now it won't bend properly and, funnily enough, hurts like balls
Also, I woke up with a headache - which has been happening for, like, a week now, and the headache myseriously lifts as soon as I leave work. This is because work is both boring and stressful and therefore headache-inducing.
The thing is, right, I really hate my job, and I wonder, am I being naive for wishing I had a job I enjoyed? I mean, very few people I know have jobs they really love, and at least I earn enough to live on and all that stuff - but then again they mostly don't have jobs that lead to them getting headaches just thinking about being at work, or mean they occasionally go home in tears. At the weekend, one of my buddies from Uni was in town, and the old crowd all met up for lunch on the Sunday, and I mentioned how I hate Sundays because I am sort of constantly aware the whole day of how I have to be at work the next day and how this will blow. And my friends don't feel that, but I always thought that was pretty normal.
I am a miserable bastard, is the truth.
And also, my job is like being in purgatory. On really bad days I actually find myself wondering - in all seriousness - if I've died at some point without realising it, and this job is my eternal torment, which is why I can't seem to get another one. (And I'm a really quite staunch atheist.)
Blah. I'm just feeling a bit crap about stuff right now, because I don't feel I've ever really achieved anything worthwhile, and all the stuff I want to do with my life - like travel the world and live abroad at least once and, you know, just be happy, at least some of the time - well, I haven't done any of it and I have this constant feeling I'm too old and it's too late.
Boo hoo.
Maybe I should start seeing a counsellor again. The thing is, I don't want to go back on the antidepressants - because they don't actually make me happy and calm - they wrap the depression and the mania up in cotton wool, so I can't really think at all, and therefore am not sad or hyper by default. All I know is, I get my best writing and music and stuff done when my head is actually in a bad place.
Hmmph.
It's all mixed up anyway. It's not really about the stubbed toe or the chili in painful places at all.
Bollocks.
Enough of this rubbish. I'm off.