When You Are This Tired

I don't think I was this tired and in pain when I was working nights at the org. NOTHING could have prepared me for the sheer mindfucking fatigue I am experiencing right now. And the funny thing is, I don't actually think I am THAT busy.

But so much is happening, and has happend, Dear Reader, since I spoke to you last. Omg, how ARE you? How could I have been so selfish?

I am no longer self-conscious about drinking in the middle of the day. Don't get me wrong, it is a strain on my pocketbook. But red wine and I have becomeREALLY good friends ever since shit started breaking crazy in this hood.

Good news? Sure... After only 3 months of asking incessantly for a key to a GD office, I was given a key. The office is full of 8 year old exams and I think I saw a Phyllis Diller's skeleton cracking jokes when I walked in (HAAA!). But there is a desk and a chalkboard. There's a telephone too, but there is no dial tone. It is in the extreme netherregions of the third floor carry-a-flashlight-or-you'll-be-raped hallway. But it is mine (for a month). So I couldn't be happier.

The other week I told my supervisor that I felt disrespected by the department and cried. She actually apologized and got that key (see above).

I have been passed on to the final round of a rather prestigious scholarship. Then asked to apply to ANOTHER scholarship. It's funny that when the head of the department emailed me with one line, "Psyche, call me immediately," I just assumed that I was either in touble or my advisor had died. Who knew that she thinks I'm a genious? Who knew that the department would actually express pride when someone does something well?

GAWD. I'm tired, and I feel fucked in the head. My therapist says that my intense murderous rage fantasies are entirely normal given my situation.

Oh, goody.

Gotta stop. My whole left arm is tingling. Back to the wrist brace.

Oh, and if you are someone who wears UGGS and can't pick up your fucking feet when you walk... watch your back, motherfucker, because my murderous rage fantasies involve you.

You and people who whistle on the subways.
Bitches.