|
i'm not willing to "prevent" anymore |
|
|
| Written by Diana, on 04-02-2006 03:00 |
| Views |
127  |
|
|
|
I've been constantly moving all night, one ear to the television and the other to music, my head in a book or off focusing on something else. I got a lot of bad news this past week, I've almost lost the motivation to continue functioning. I have some kind of fluid in my lungs, I noticed it about two weeks ago. Whenever I'm laying down and I, you know, breathe I can feel it like cotton in there instead of air. I haven't yet found another job and my current job has taken it out of me. I start training my replacement next week probably and because she's "difficult" they won't start training me to do her job until she gets my job down somewhat which isn't what they told me when I took the position. I just want out. The owner wants me to do a "spotlight" by filling out some personal questions and giving her a digital picture of myself so she can post it in the office or in the other offices, or whatever, she didn't say. I don't want to do it because I don't plan on sticking around but I can't tell her that. My father was supposed to help me with a cover letter this weekend but something came up at work and he might not come home at all. There's a job at Disney Internet Group (DIG) that I want but I don't have all the requirements so I have to "convince" them to even hear me out. My coworker and I are hardly even speaking because we're both so stressed out over finding new jobs. My mother ... I don't even know where to start but I'd rather be anywhere in the world as long as it isn't within ear shot of her. She's good at "rubbing it in" -- all the things that are causing me hell, she likes to interrogate me, like it's any of her damn business. I've been emailing my father back and forth about work & my fish and my job hunting and he's totally helpful. Then there's my mother. Screaming at her doesn't convince her not to ask me about things so I prefer to hide from her as much as possible. It's my best chance at surviving. I used to say I want my life to end, that I want to end my life. I feel the same way, all the time now, that I used to when I wanted that end but I guess I've evolved beyond that thought into overwhelming chaos. That's the only word I can think of that even comes close to how I feel. I'm sitting here at my desk and I can feel the cotton in my lungs, but I really don't care. I'm not willing to "prevent" anymore. I welcome it. Bring it on.
Last update: 04-02-2006 03:00
Users' Comments (0)
|
|
|