There’s not enough time. After two hours of sleep Tuesday morning I forgot to take my meds yesterday, so that was a fun one. I was pretty tired but managed to not do enough at work, and not accomplish as much as I wanted at home and out at a social/volunteer obligation I basically let other people do most everything and I watched and only carried a few things instead of actually working. After the not-doing-much at the event I finally ate some chicken chili in a moment between nausea waves, and fell asleep.
So what’s the cure for my insomnia? Insomnia! Hooray.
Except it just makes me feel the rage until I can go to sleep. This is just a side effect of actually taking the meds, but I’m hoping that’ll stabilize after a few days of taking them. I may be seeing you at 3 Thursday morning, but I’m sorry to confess, I hope I don’t. It’s not you. It’s me. I like sleep, at least sometimes.
I don’t want to write in the morning. I want to write at work but they’re flexing their security muscles and I can’t do anything extra at work. I can’t even visit some sites I need to visit to help the clients, because they’re blocked. It’s over the top, but I understand if lazy fuckers at work aren’t meeting their productivity goals and they’re spending all day streaming cat pictures on Pinterest and looking for another job because the one they have sucks. I’m waiting for the employer to realize that restricting me doesn’t improve my productivity. It only makes work more stressful because being able to play some Led Zeppelin at lunch just relieves the tension, and being able to blog at lunch and breaks improves my productivity by relieving my stress from the customers.
I marvel at the stupidity. You’re supposed to be working, and you’re watching a fucking movie online on the company computer. Not a 3 or 4 minute song on Youtube, but a movie. Or, you’re chatting up your friends on fakebook. And you do just enough work to make it look like you’re working, but you’re not working so I get the honor of working harder to carry your fucking weight, and they underpay me for it because I’ve been at the company longer than you, but somehow you make more than I do.
Corporate America, you’re all fucking idiots if you can’t figure out what the difference between a little stress relief between tasks, and professional loafing, is. If I’m making my goals, meeting my numbers, every day, I’m not the problem. If you had people who actually supervised people, instead of people who fail at micromanagement of employees in an attempt to squeeze that last drop of blood out of the rocks, you might see the one who is stressing out and needs a little break from helping everyone and carrying the loafers’ loads, and you might notice the ones who are busy “like-“ing their friends cat pictures and watching fucking MOVIES on the company computer on the company time.
So I have to write this in the morning instead of as a stress reliever during the day it’s a stressor while I try to squeeze out the creativity (such as it is, not very creative-feeling, sorry readers) before I have to run out to work for the corporate idiots. We’ll see what happens with the new restrictions. Maybe it’s temporary. Or maybe it’ll actually make the people who hopefully can’t watch the movies and go to fakebook at work, fucking WORK.
I suppose I should be grateful. Thanks, boss. But while I struggle to adjust because it’s change and I really hate change, it’s very stressful. And if I have stress and rage and insomnia and rage, I might have to strangle the ladies social club that now talks more during the day about their family and their family criminals and their medical issues and their pets, because they can’t vent that on fakebook like they used to. They talk and talk, and when they’re on their phones I just wish I had high cubicle walls and a door I could shut to seal myself off from their noise, because I can’t yell at the chatty chats, but I wish I could
I wish they would SHUT THE FUCK UP!!
End of rant, I’m off to have fun at the office. Hooray.
I hope in spite of corporate, and the general American, stupidity, that you all have a great day. Maybe someone will get a raise or a promotion. If you do, tell fakebook, and if you tell me, I promise to not be in a jealous rage. Meh. It doesn’t matter. Tell me, because you probably deserve it. But if you work in my office, SHUT THE FUCK UP, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU BRAG.