Memorial Day, I guess, just has to be traumatic or dramatic or whatever.
My employer needs work done and I just barely do enough to keep from being discarded, I think. He needs stuff done, I’ve needed to work, but I don’t.. it’s sorta like writer’s block.
Anyway, I’m presently locked into my room.
Julie has been at the end of her rope with three kids for like three years and she’s out there with kids and I’m in here with my computer. I still haven’t slept.
Those are not my kids.
However, it seems like in the interest of just being helpful, that I should be doing more to keep the kids off her, but I still haven’t slept. I didn’t work yesterday but just like an hour… oh.. there was the checking in on a cleanup project on a set of servers… but that was more like shepherding than programming. This guy needs results. I need results.
The fact is, I suck!
I just want to live through the next thirty minutes… No. Actually, I don’t want to live through the next thirty minutes — I want to be able to cope for thirty more minutes.
I hate my life.
I have no hope of anything changing because I’m always the one doing these things… I’ve always been there and here I am. 🙂
I’ve done a damn fine job of smiling and not saying something if I don’t have anything nice to say, and I like pointing out what’s awesome and great about everything else, but I feel like crap. I feel like a piece of crap would feel like when it was roasting on the sidewalk with the egg frying there on the sidewalk… just me, the crap, and the egg… sitting there frying.
I got bitten on my ass by an ant when my mother put me down on the sidewalk. I was wearing underwear. She sat me on the sidewalk. I played with the ants. They bit my ass. It was painful. I cried.
That might be my earliest memory.
No association there… Just typing.
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