Feed on

I was in a cranky-assed mood today for most of the day. I think the sustained shitful weather is grinding on me, plus the obscene volume of work I’m contending with, plus the annoying paperwork associated with this time of year (tax papers coming in, business license to renew, state sales-tax ID to renew, vet check-up visits to schedule, dentist cleaning to schedule, and more). The pressures of being a semi-unsuccessful small businesswoman, an adult, and a responsible cat-caretaker would be much more handily handled if I could just take a week or so off, and do two or three big, frustrating things per day, and rest in between.

So anyway, I woke up before 5:00 a.m. today, when I had no business to be awake before 6:30, and just felt kind of sketchy and unbalanced. The moment I got to work I began fielding calls from people who wanted information that was difficult to dredge up, or not even something our department could deliver. I had a large project I needed to work on away from my desk, but it took me the better part of an hour to fulfil these various research requests before I could even get started. Then came the interruptions. I don’t deal happily with interruptions on a good day, especially when I have a LOT of stuff to accomplish, and today, my mental response to every approach was “What the hell do you want?” I wish I could post a blinking billboard on my head that says “I’m busy goddammit, this had better be important!” And maybe a shirt that says “I’m a cranky motherfucker–pester at your own risk.” Well to make a long story short, I did get the big project and two smaller ones accomplished, as well as did some more research for callers, and I didn’t roll my eyes, cuss, or snap at anyone, so I actually had a pretty productive day, but I kept wanting to just smash my phone to smithereens every time it rang.

I feel a sickie coming on.

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