Sat day, 6 hours at a picnic in Marin (and got sunburned) – Check.
Sat night, 4 hours at the Disaster House Party – Check.
Sun day, spent 5 hours at a party in Fremont – Check.
Monday, had lunch with psuedo cousin and girlfriend – Check.

Managed to fill weekend – check.

Fricking plip! I am tired of having the opposite reaction to things from other people. I keep getting hit with things and others are happy.

They are moving us at work. Into our own little cubicles. We will get a little more privacy than our current 3 foot desk walls. And the groups will be separated. We don’t have to listen to everyone anymore. And we get a TV that will be on all day. Fricken pile of plip. One of the main reasons I agreed to work here way back when was that it was a bullpen set up and I would work with a large-ish group. Now I am going to be off by myself with a little window to talk to ONE other person in my group. Away from my best friend. With a Damn TV looming over my shoulder. Welcome to what I would call a Hostile Work Environment and others think is a step up.

Today, around 11:30am, we get the news that the head of our entire department says we can go home at 1pm. Fricken blast! People are dancing around and I am pissed. I am here because I don’t want to be at home. Here, I am surrounded by people that keep me distracted from all the garbage my head is drowning in. I have contacts here, I can do things. I have the internet to entertain me. At home, I have things I should do and don’t want to do. I have isolation. Lack of structure. I am left to my own devices and they aren’t working all that well. I don’t want to be at work but I want to be at home even less. I have things to do and people to see Sat and Sun but Monday is a day off. And it is empty. I am having a devil of a time trying to do what I need to to fill it.

Nothing is all that bad in my life, not like the crap that is hitting the fan for so many other people. That doesn’t mean I don’t hurt as much as them, just that I don’t have the justification to hurt as much as them. Which adds that much more to the whole ball of wax.

Life is a Bitch and then you die. Can we just skip to the dying part now please.