I feel…crappy. Maybe because I fucked up at work today. Nothing…catastrophic? As long as it’s not something that happens with any frequency, it should be no big deal, but still. I fucking despise messing up at work. It makes me want to crawl into a ditch and hide. I definitely fucked up today (but did not Fuck Up I hope).
Lately I have been dreaming, dreaming incessantly about work. I hate it. It makes me feel like a complete loser. Like being there for literally half the day is not enough, I need to tack in a few more hours during which I should really be flying on a unicorn to Hogwarts to meet Harry and the gang.
Do I really love work that much that I need to let it eat at me even while I sleep? I don’t think so. In fact, I like work sure, but I would be perfectly content not thinking about work for one second while I’m at home.
I’m just over it. I’m over these things replaying in my head like movies on a loop I can’t stop. I’m done.
Where’s the off switch?
That’s not a good sign. When I worked at Pizza Hut one summer, I would awaken getting up out of my bed to refill the sweet tea. And when I worked as a crisis response consultant, I would hear the phone ring in my sleep, and wake up with it in my hand. It’s terrible to go back to work feeling like you’ve never left because you were there all night in your dreams.