Yuck, four more hours of my own personal Hell, aka; work. I feel like once you get your shit done, you should be able to leave.... If that were the case, and we still got paid for 8 hours, I would work much, much harder. So instead, I drag out the minuscule work I do end up having out over 8 hours. It's like an ugly, viscous cycle. I really wish I enjoyed doing my job. Actually it's not that I entirely hate my job, it's more I can't stand the majority of the people I work with. The loud mouths, the weird, the ignorant, the annoying. I can stand only so much, and 2 hours into Monday mornings I've usually reached my limit. It's almost like a game seeing who is going to get pissed off first, and who will piss them off. Ms. Bossy Odd-ball, Ms. Attitude, Mr. Can't think for himself, and the list goes on and on. It's pathetic that I spend 40 hours a week with these people. I'm like a flying squirrel perched in my little tree waiting for the right breeze to kick up so I can glide on to a bigger, well it doesn't have to be bigger, but definitely better tree or even bush. There hasn't been any wind in a long time though, and this tree is getting stale. I'd like to put my acorns in another tree.
I really need a breeze!