BREAK DOWN! (imagine this sung to the tune of Peter Gabriel's smach-hit "Big Time"
I cried at photoshop today. I was at the magazine, was a little stressed but not more than usual, a photoshop application was fucking up. I tried to explain what was the matter to my editor and I just started to cry. Sob. bawl. I was fucking blubbering.
Both the editor and publisher were hugging me and trying to find out what was the matter and it just made the tears come on more strong. I fucking hate people seeing me cry..
So I was given the week off, with strick orders not to work at all... (otherwise they think im liable to have a full-blown breakdown.) just wander around the market, get ice cream and eat lots of snacks... so thats what im doing. All the bank presentations/portfolio buisness plan things, all the funding research, my collumn pitch on the VTape show, all the grant applications... nada! nothing. everything and everyone can go fuck themselves today. Im taking a day off and doing fuck-all for once.
wide-world, go fuck yourself.
Both the editor and publisher were hugging me and trying to find out what was the matter and it just made the tears come on more strong. I fucking hate people seeing me cry..
So I was given the week off, with strick orders not to work at all... (otherwise they think im liable to have a full-blown breakdown.) just wander around the market, get ice cream and eat lots of snacks... so thats what im doing. All the bank presentations/portfolio buisness plan things, all the funding research, my collumn pitch on the VTape show, all the grant applications... nada! nothing. everything and everyone can go fuck themselves today. Im taking a day off and doing fuck-all for once.
wide-world, go fuck yourself.