Finally, a chance to write.

This past week at work has sucked, heh, I didn't lie about that. We've lost a bunch of people, which makes me have to work that much harder, and it's getting tiresome, this business of watching people take a leak day in and day out. I really don't know why I'm bitching about it, since I'm still employed and there are plenty of folk out there that would scream to have my job... I guess it's just the usual run-down, day-to-day monotony that's getting me down.

I actually haven't been feeling very 'right' for a while now, not at least since I first got physically sick. I'm fine now, the cold/sinus infection/whatever the fuck it was has cleared up... but inside there's this queer "dead" feeling, like all of my emotions have taken a vacation. I mean, I'm "fine".. but not fine. If that makes any sense. I'm actually not very unhappy about it, as it allows me to focus on what I need to do at the present, which is try to get through work, get ready for the next semester at school, etc., etc. and yadda-yadda. It's still a strange feeling, though. I think maybe I'm cushioning myself for the fact that I will, again, be all alone for Christmas/New Year's, and that there's no point in crying about it. It is what it is - God, how I hate that phrase now that it's been overused to death!

I have no idea of what my plans are. Probably no plans at all. Laundry, cleaning. I really need to take care of some of this shit while I have the downtime, but it seems kind of sad that that's all there is to "celebrate". It's what I did last year, if I recall right, and had an attack shortly thereafter. I hope this medicine will buffer against that this year. But I guess I'll just have to see what comes.

Thursday. I don't want to go out there and sign in more drug addicts for tests, but that's exactly what I'm going to end up doing in about 20 minutes, bleh.

I might try and go somewhere this year. Ocean City might be nice, though it'll be cold... but what the hell, it's better than staying home and being all by myself, at least I can be all by myself in a different place. We'll see.

In the short term, I'm doing okay, I suppose. Dead emotional landscape, like I said, but maybe that's good.

Just noticed how many times I've said "I" or a derivative of it in this post... damn, it really is all about me, isn't it. Those few that read here must think that I don't think of anything else, or have anything else to discuss or contribute, but then again, the world at large really doesn't interest me right now. I didn't make this blog to be "clevar" or "interesting" or even anything but a personal bitchfest, heh. Sometimes I wish I could be a little more interesting, but that's all in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.

Anyway. This is getting too long and I'm tired and probably not making much sense anyhow. I feel that queer sense of ... I don't know. Like an attack is going to come, and soon, but I don't know when or where. I wish I could just live my life without fearing that.

Back to work.