2003-03-08 - 1:41 p.m.

Plum Tared

What a frickin' week.  I have never been more sure that this job has out lived its usefulness.  I worked long hours, about 60 hours by my count.  I am tired and cranky.  This is also the week I am on call and the pager has been going off since last night.  It is all stupid shit that I don’t feel like dealing with.  I hate, hate, hate being on call.

Yesterday, Friday, it felt like I ran a marathon while sitting at my desk.  I was busy every single moment, there was one call after another and I was the only one to take care of it.  Everyone else was busy with something else.

Now it is the weekend and I am going to have to spend it resting.  I have a lot of stuff to take care of here at home but I am wiped out and just don't have the energy for it.  Oh, well.

I had a long conversation with a coworker last night before I left the office.  He suggests that I use my willingness to quit my job to leverage it into more money or better benefits.  He has a good point.  But then I have to balance that with my not wanting to invest even one more ounce of energy into my job.  I'm tired of thinking about it, really.

I am at that point again.  It is a very familiar theme in my life.  That time between knowing it is time to leave and actually leaving.  I always get anxious and impatient.  Even now I find myself cleaning out my desk drawers, throwing stuff away.  Other changes come to the surface. My moods shift easily.

It is almost 1:30 p.m. and I have not even showered today.  I have to get going.  Oh!  I just remembered, I need to get to the dry cleaners to pick up my suit.  I hope I will need it soon for an interview.  I was going to go out with Dorothy and her daughter Blythe tomorrow, but I think I'll just stay in instead.  I can already tell I need to cut my losses on this weekend and just recuperate.

Jimmy
 
 

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