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Weepy Me

May 14, 2009

Weepy Me
Weep for me
Keep for me
Something true

I’ve been a weepy wuss today. In fact, for the last few days. I wanted to cry or quit my job on Wednesday when my boss was talking about the new software we will be using. I also wanted choke the video guy when he sent me an e-mail about tri-pods.

Yeah, I was edgy.

But I do seriously dread going to work each day that I know I will have to do video. I just want to work on something I am fully trained in and capable of doing. It would be nice if it was something I liked to do too — like page design or column writing.

Tomorrow will be a certain person’s last day at my office. She’s the woman who replaced me in my former position…and I want that job back! Or at least part of it. So, while I’m sad that she won’t be working here anymore, I’m happy about the opportunity it presents.

I made sure the bosses know how I feel and I’m just hoping.

After talking to the boss-man last time I told him that I really was trying to make it work here, but that I reeally need to work days, so I am looking for opportunities elsewhere. While that’s still true I am also increasingly hating parts of my job and dying to do actual page design again.

I miss my weekly. I didn’t think it was possible, but, there you go.

I’ve also been dealing with being newly single and that might account for some of the tears. I got more explination about why today: he just knows. Well, isn’t that nice for him? I mean, sometimes that’s a good enough answer. Like when you’re picking a piece of fruit. Sometimes you just know which one will be ripe. But for this, such intuition just feels like a cop-out.

But this is really a blessing in disguise and the right guy is out there somewhere and you’re really better off anyway and this will make you stronger…and none of that makes me feel any better about it. Not yet. Maybe eventually. I can’t make any good sense of it in fact — and I’m sure that he is marking that up to him making the right choice.

I just don’t understand and he make s desicions like this sometimes. Yadda, yadda…it still feels like a cop out.

I feel like a cop out.

I wish I could just take a vacation from my life. Just run away for a month. Be someone else and come home clean and ready.

Maybe I just need to cry over it all until it’s clean. — my job — my relationships — my ambitions — my bad skin and my fat stomach — my dirty apartment.

Weepy Me
Weep for me
Keep for me
Something new
Weepy me

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