| Written by Diana, on 07-06-2005 23:30 |
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So I finally broke down and ate, in fact it didn't even really do it for me, I'm still jittery. I was feeling a little freaked about my olive oil italian herb garlic rolls (two, very small) that I ate at work today. If I pretend they weren't totally unhealthy, I ended up at about 620 calories today along with two doses of Midol (caffeine) and I just broke down with a Zone bar. 830. I drove home really pissed and decided I'd test my willpower by skipping dinner. Not my greatest idea. If it wasn't for the Midol I coulda done it. Anyhow, it's my mother's birthday and I didn't wish her a happy birthday. For one, I'm not into hoping she has a good birthday, my little unhappy birthday revenge scheme, and two I can't stand her, putting it lightly. I got off work today around 8pm and was planning on going home early, veging for a while, but I went to offer my supervisor (who's in a different department) my free time if they needed any help, specifically updating the massive number of [misspelled & out-dated] attorney names in our system to help take the burden off a friend of mine. he didn't acknowledge that I had offered but went off for an HOUR about office gossip and several [confidential] things he just couldn't keep to himself. He gave me a couple of compliments on my work ethic but in the end, even when I brought up the attorneys again, he still did not acknowledge that I had done so and instead suggested I teach one of the girls in his department to use Excel (even though the process she needed it for could be done in seconds another way, which I also mentioned to him). What bothered me is that I feel that my time would be better spent reviewing old worksheets to be thrown away than teaching this girl to enter names in a spreadsheet. I was offering my time because it seemed there had to be something more productive than throwing worksheets away. Apparently, watching [very important] work not get done by the person who's supposed to do it is more productive than getting someone else to do it instead. Strange. I think I'll stick to trashing worksheets. I don't know why he kept brushing me off like that. There are some office spats going on and as much as I feel like I'm supposed to take sides, both people make me think the other person's right. I also like both people and have no desire to get involved, in fact the less I know the better. I've offered my help and it wasn't accepted so that's all I'm going to do. Last weekend I accidentally almost sliced off the tip of finger. I say almost because the skin is still hanging there. I believe it's dead by now but it's keeping the gaping hole from bleeding out. Every time I lift it to see if it's ready to be removed, the hole bleeds. It's really annoying too because band-aids aren't made for the tip of a finger and I'm not too much into looking stupid, one band-aid looped over the top, one wrapped around to keep the other on; however, it's one of my ten typing fingers. Even with a band-aid it's painful whenever I type painful, popular, parition. [period] I could instead type ainful, oular, artition and leave all my sentences without their eriods, but that would be silly. I hear all the obese women in my office talking about me, not like they're trying to hide it, but it's rude. Skinny or fat, I'm just as sick as they are probably more. There are actually those women out there, large as they are, who are content with their size. I'm at a weight where people have placed me in this different category, a category I placed girls in when I was..large. It's that we hate them 'cause they're "perfect" category that doesn't really exist. Seeing is believing? Unfortunately, I'm the most miserable person many of them will ever meet and they'll never know. I'm in that mood that gets me through anything for a short period of time. It gets me through American Lit. classes on slavery and civil rights, classes entered into with passionate disinterest, on two hours sleep and no food for weeks. I'm inspired to crack my Calculus 3 book and pick up where I left off three years ago. It's a little unrealistic since the last time I opened my Calc. 1 book for a bit of "fun reading" I couldn't recall a thing. I had forgotten how to take the derivitive of something, and what the hell is the significance of e^x? I'm still pondering that one, even though I studied it for five semesters straight just three years ago. Where have all my thoughts gone? All those years of studying the same damn concepts over and over with different teachers in new locations are lost to me. I'm in that mood where I think out loud, having great philosophical debates with the little person inside, presenting my thesis to my silent audience. I wonder if anyone thinks I'm crazy yet.
Last update: 07-06-2005 23:30
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