Nothing good can come from today

It was one of those mornings. Nothing went right. The day was one gigantic leap out of the wrong side of the bed. Insta-agitation, just add water. Blech. And it was all probably stemming from the fact that I was on my way to the death-of-me-job. I hate this job. I loathe it. I dread it like kidney stones. It turns me into an unpleasant person -- which despite some of the entries in this blog to the contrary, I'm not. I spend my day fighting anger until I'm twisted into this wrenched up ball of silent, beaten fury. It takes me way too long to unwind.

I've been having these recurring dreams where I'm back in high school and I've apparently ditched every class of some subject (usually math), I've never done any homework, and finals are coming up and I'm clearly going to fail and there's no way around it, though I scramble and scramble. I wake up in a mild panic, having to remind myself that I've been out of school for a while, high school for much longer, and I was never that kind of student to begin with. But I still spend the morning following these dreams feeling caught, unprepared, lost, and helpless.

And I've only had these dreams the last four or five months, on and off. It's gotta be because of the job.

So I had one of these mornings today. It was awful. Nothing good could come from today. Not a chance.

And I did hate work. It was awful and I spent all day daydreaming and quitting. My friend P relishes a good opportunity to quit. He's fully prepared to make a scene, burn a bridge (where they don't matter much at least), and walk the hell on out. If it's not right for him, he figures, better sooner than later. I wish I could do that. I wish it all the time. But I'm responsible. Blech. There's bills and student loans and blah blah blah.

I keep telling myself the right industry job is out there and I just need to hold on. But I also think about quitting and taking up a night job somewhere and spending my days writing. Or some menial job like at Office Depot or something, and just doing something mindless and hacking away at my scripts.

I don't know.

BUT --

two good things did happen today, shocking me oh so largely and pleasantly:

1. A at the B, that amazing worker of magic and do-goodery, sent me a copy of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse. More on that later. But it's been making it's way around the writerly world, and I'm so excited to get my hands on it. I'm saving it for tomorrow. SO. GEEKED.

2 I was invited out to pie by another writer. Pie. Writerly chat. What could be better?

Two good things. Not so bad. It's almost enough to make going to work tomorrow less like kidney stones and more like acid reflux. Almost. But I'll take what I can get.

ps. Many thanks to the providers of the Two Good Things From The Day Where No Good Could Come.

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