Thursday, February 09, 2006

WATCH FOR SPiKES


hey, talk to me. i'm miserable.
i've had a shit day, preceded by a shit night, and a few other shit days.
my girl is halfway up the country, having a blast, and here i am stuck in my wee life. working, working on a fucking building site, in the RAIN. this is meant to be the hottest driest month in chch, damn it.
it's getting to me. it's making me all scratchy inside, i feel like i have claws beneath my skin just about ready to break through, snag people, retreat back in. leaving infected scars all round.
fuck i'm sick of being me today. fuck i'm so SICK of it.
i'm sick of giving so much to people, sick of having so much demanded of me. sick of training staff, sick of keeping the smily face on and holding back the snarl. sick of even the people i enjoy day to day.
sick of those nice customers who make it impossible to resent them.
sick of workmates who need reassurance, sick of workmates who need someone to bitch to about the ones who need reassurance.
sick of missing trace.
sick of the way i feel about it all.
sick to fucking death of this pitiful life i'm struggling through at the moment.
give me a fucking BREAK!.
give me a tank of petrol and a remote destination.
give me something, please?
yes you,
please.

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