"Well it ain't my baby leaving me that's left me in the pits,
It's trivial insignificant things that are giving me the shits."
(Ask a Late Show fan for a rendition)
Yep. All the true disasters in life, I can take in my stride. It's the trifles that get me down. Lately there's been a fair amount of not-so-great, but not-truly horrible stuff going on. I won't go into details, but yesterday, it was capped off when the server crashed and I lost a bunch of amendments to customer files, that constituted the bulk of my work over the last few weeks.
So, all the upset and anger I was feeling about everything else, poured out over the loss of my work. I had a bit of a cry. I whinged on forums. I got home last night and just let myself lose it for awhile, then I felt better.
You see, I'm so sick of my life right now. I'm sick of my job, sick of my house, sick of my home suburb, sick of being cut off from everyone, sick of loneliness. I've stayed in Newcastle for so long but now I have had enough; I want to move to Sydney right now. But my contract has been extended until mid-April, so I am stuck here. All dressed up and no place to go…what is the point of having madly-coloured hair (the photo below really doesn’t do it justice…it’s so bright it almost glows) if no one out of the office gets to see it?
And I'm really sick of the weekends, I mean I have actually grown to hate them. You may boggle at this, but think about it: I have no one to talk to in my house; it takes most of Saturday just to get the washing, cleaning and shopping for the week done, so I don't have time to go to Sydney; and if I do get out, so what? I'm still in Newcastle (did I mention that I'm sick of it?) I must admit, I spend most of my weekends, the days at least, in tears. At least going to work, I have things to do, people to talk to...and free fresh fruit and coffee. Although, in an office, the weekend is built up as the pinnacle of life. All day Monday..."So, how was your weekend?" All day Friday..."Doing anything for the weekend?" I’ve started to lie so I don’t sound pathetic.
Apparently our new CEO is visiting the office next week. Which means I'm going to have to dye my hair back to a more natural colour (actually, I'll probably be sent to Utility Room B to collect a mountain bike). I have never seen the new CEO, but at a wild guess, I'm figuring he will be a tall Caucasian in late middle age, with silver hair.
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