ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enought baby
i got all stressed out today after class, called my boss and asked if i could work a couple hours later so i could take a freaking nap. i had a wonderful nap. i still don't want to go to work. i'm feeling really worn down. this weekend was one event after the other, and it was really fun, but i'm exhausted from it. school in the mornings and this straight from school to work bullshit is so difficult. i feel like i used to have a lot more energy than this but i'm wearing down. i'm getting ready for school before the sun comes up and getting off work far after the sun has gone down. i'm not seeing daylight anymore. that's some pretty lonely shit.
i just wish things could slow down. my weekends are amazing. fun things to do, time to spend with the bf, time to just chill on the couch and read. then the week comes and sucker punches me. it's all like "how do you like that! and that!" over and over again so by the time i get home i'm a worn out punching bag of a person. (who then has to try to fall asleep immediately so as to maybe get 8 hours of sleep)
sorry for the pity party, it's just that in theory this was supposed to be difficult, and trying, but i can't deal man. i just need a break! every moment at work i'm wishing i was home, and every moment at home i'm monitoring the clock making sure i don't chose an after work task that lasts longer than maybe an hour, cuz then i'll be cranky and sleep deprived all the next day.
i remember this feeling all too well. it's so familiar. sitting up in bed at 7am and thinking, god fucking damn it, i have to do that again? i felt that like last time i was in college too. just waking up, scanning the horizon of my day, and wanting to die.
i don't actually want to die. most of the time. but i don't fucking want to do this anymore. which doesn't mean i'm not going to do it anymore. it just means i'm going to keep getting myself upset about it until i have a panic attack (preferably sometime next month.)
so yeah, me calling in late was a desperate last measure that was supposed to mean, "dear boss; i'm standing up for myself, i'm clearly exhausted, you're working me too hard, and my school work is much more important than this job. please lay off and stop making me work 10-12 hour shifts, i can't handle it. i have too much homework, i'm getting too little sleep. blah blah blah, ultimatum, blah, blah, blah..."
but i'm pretty sure it just sounded like, "hey sebrina, i'm really stressed, and stayed up all night studying for my math mid-term, do you think i could come in like a little later or something. i need to get some rest, i'm just worn out." followed by her questioning if i could get all my work done in that little time, and me reassuring her that i'll work even harder and faster to compensate for my present laziness.
fuck me.
i just wish things could slow down. my weekends are amazing. fun things to do, time to spend with the bf, time to just chill on the couch and read. then the week comes and sucker punches me. it's all like "how do you like that! and that!" over and over again so by the time i get home i'm a worn out punching bag of a person. (who then has to try to fall asleep immediately so as to maybe get 8 hours of sleep)
sorry for the pity party, it's just that in theory this was supposed to be difficult, and trying, but i can't deal man. i just need a break! every moment at work i'm wishing i was home, and every moment at home i'm monitoring the clock making sure i don't chose an after work task that lasts longer than maybe an hour, cuz then i'll be cranky and sleep deprived all the next day.
i remember this feeling all too well. it's so familiar. sitting up in bed at 7am and thinking, god fucking damn it, i have to do that again? i felt that like last time i was in college too. just waking up, scanning the horizon of my day, and wanting to die.
i don't actually want to die. most of the time. but i don't fucking want to do this anymore. which doesn't mean i'm not going to do it anymore. it just means i'm going to keep getting myself upset about it until i have a panic attack (preferably sometime next month.)
so yeah, me calling in late was a desperate last measure that was supposed to mean, "dear boss; i'm standing up for myself, i'm clearly exhausted, you're working me too hard, and my school work is much more important than this job. please lay off and stop making me work 10-12 hour shifts, i can't handle it. i have too much homework, i'm getting too little sleep. blah blah blah, ultimatum, blah, blah, blah..."
but i'm pretty sure it just sounded like, "hey sebrina, i'm really stressed, and stayed up all night studying for my math mid-term, do you think i could come in like a little later or something. i need to get some rest, i'm just worn out." followed by her questioning if i could get all my work done in that little time, and me reassuring her that i'll work even harder and faster to compensate for my present laziness.
fuck me.