Today was my first day back from vacation. And while, yes, I'm not unhappy about my vacation being over, apparantly my dept. went to hell while I was gone. All kinds of crap that I have to right. I can get it done but it's more extra work on top of what my day to day duties are. Grrr. One bright spot was that work crush was there today. Unfortunately, I don't think I was really primped enough to see him.
Anyhow, so I got not enough sleep last night and therefore my nerves were set even more on edge after having all this stuff thrown at me this morning. And then I got a bit "snippy" and "gave attitude" to the dm's assistant who then had to tell Candi. Thanks a whole fucking lot. Candi was nice about it and I told her that it wasn't the dm's assistant fault. She was calling me about the Monday morning paperwork that needed to be faxed and since I was the only person in my dept. this morning I was trying to flag down an MOD to get the faxes done for me. And that's when the dm's assistant called me asking where they were. I, in frustration, probably sounded like I was upset with her but I was really just upset at the fact that I was in the manager meeting right up until opening and couldn't get my stuff done. I let Candi know that I really needed to get out of those meetings earlier. She totally agreed. All is fine there, I think.
Anyway, I'm driving home trying to not get too upset about my day, listening to the podcast of NPR's "Wait, Wait..Don't tell me" on my iPod. Keeping my spirits up that way. Stopped off and paid my rent (we get a five day grace period). Then stopped at the grocery store. Picked out one of those half-cart style grocery carts and made my way into the aisles. After a few minutes I looked around and noticed all the single women with their half-carts doing their own shopping. And suddenly, I just felt so hopeless. I'm tired of being alone. I know I'm not the only one who feels that way in DLand. It's like that Police song "Message in a bottle"...100 million castaways looking for a home. It's just that I might not be so alone in my being alone, to paraphrase Sting, but it doesn't really make it hurt any less. I'm tired of keeping people out. I am so tired of not having a man to hold me. To care for me. I feel weak in admitting it. But I can't end up alone. I can't end up like this. But I'm so fucking afraid I will. Pathetic.
My psychiatrist appt. is in 3 days, on Thursday, at 10am. It can't come soon enough.
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