Exhausted

I just want to know:

When am I going to get used to being so busy at work? When am I going to stop cherishing that hour I stay late after everyone else has gone home so that I can work, unmolested (yes, I did say "unmolested")?

I know people are busy. I know everyone has hard weeks at work. I know there are way more stressful jobs than mine and people who do harder things for longer periods, yes. I know. I'm talking about my week, though, and it's been hard. It was hard, last week. It will continue to be hard. So when the fuck is this shit going to end? I mean, I can handle being busy for a limited time: I much prefer being busy to being bored, any day. I hate having nothing to do. I will admit that I love being a little bit indispensable. But Jesus Christ! I need a fucking break! I can't do it with no goddamn end in sight! And with all the interruptions, changing gears every ten minutes, following up... it's just a bit mind-spinning. My mind spins. Maybe I'm a bit goofy right now: I will admit to not really being myself. But at work I think I've been handling it, mostly. Except for those moments when I can't handle it, mostly. Am I making any sense? No? I think I've contradicted myself several times already...

I've just been so tired, lately.

I don't know what came first, to be honest. Am I tired because my days at work are stressful? Or am I stressed because I'm tired? Monday, I think Patrick was really worried about me: I was pretty down. So what'd he do? He took me to Home Depot, and to Target. And he put up this hook thing I've been wanting, for my bags and belts and stuff. And he helped me with the laundry. And tonight? He made me chicken mole (1 cup = 8 weight watchers points, but oh! so worth it).

I don't know. I think I'll get over it. Things will calm down. But until then... Be prepared for me to be a little crazy. And to maybe start drinking a little more.

I do know this much: the next time someone approaches my cubicle and says, "I just have one quick question," and their question is for me to like, I don't know, do their fucking job for them, for which they get paid a whole lot more than I do, I'm going to just get the fuck up out of my chair and leave.

...

Relax. I will relax.