17 January
Step right up, step right up ladies and gentlemen, to the emotional wheel of fortune! Watch it spin...
Well, the good news is that I am no longer in a deep and dark depression, bursting into tears at the slightest provocation, isn't that nice? Instead, I am in a black and simmering rage, bursting into fury at the slightest provocation.
What WILL tomorrow bring??!!
...'round and 'round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows...
I wrote the following back in November, while it was all happening, but never posted it. So even though at this point it's REALLY OLD news, here it is:
There has been alot of talk in the community of diarists this past month about who we are and why we do what we do. Turns out one diarist has come out as not being who she said she was. She wrote the journal sort of as who she would have been had her life taken a different turn before she got married and had a baby. So, in case anyone wonders or cares, I am me (and if I was gonna be someone else, she'd be alot prettier and thinner and smarter than me), and nearly everything I've ever written in here is true. I say nearly everything, because once I told a small work-related lie, because I thought somebody from work might see the page, and I wanted to make certain that it said the same thing that I had said. Also, sometimes when I say something happened the other day, I really mean that it happened three months ago, but I haven't had room to fit it in until now. And one more thing, I hate to admit it, but sometimes when I say things like "I wanted to reach down his throat and pull out his still-beating heart", I am exaggerating for comic effect.
And then again, sometimes I'm not...
So, there you go, darlings! Full disclosure!
"Have you spoken to Dave yet?"
The six most disconcerting words in the English language.
My boss, Indra, asked me that the other day, and I said no, and we just moved on from there, but it left me reeling, because speaking to Dave means only two things, a raise or being canned, and I didn't think I was getting no raise.
So, I told John, and he said "You want me to go ask Dave?", "No!", I cried from under my desk, but John's the straightforward type, so he went and asked, and it turned out to be none-of-the-above, but that Dave wants to move me out of Billing, and into Accounts Payable, and I said "What, are they prepping me to take over the company or something by having me work for every single department?", but John wants me to take over his office manager duties instead.
I said "Why don't you people just figure out my life, and when you're done, let me know; I don't want to be involved."
I was on the train the other day, eavesdropping on the conversation of these three girls who were about 24 or so, and they were each taking turns telling these terrible date stories, and after they had each told about three, one of them burst out with
"Why do we keep meeting these ridiculous men!!"
And it was like a light dawning. It's not that men are jerks or men are pigs, it's that men are ridiculous!
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Last Updated Wed 19 August 20:48:09 1998