Title: Piss off
Hearing: The Thomas Crown Affair on DVD
Drinking: Nothing, which is a damn shame (we're out of beer)
Feeling: Like fucking shit. I want to go hide somewhere.
Fuck Work:
You ever work an eight hour day that seems like it was 16 hours long? I have. Today, in fact.
Release One is coming up real, real soon, and the entire company is in what can tastefully be termed a tizzy. (I'm so alliterative it hurts, people.) We've never done this before -- released a product, I mean -- and oy vey, are people getting testy. My job is one big interruption as it is, which I don't actually mind, but today was a prime example of why sysadmins turn to drink. Luser Developer Bitch and I tangled yet again over her own stupidity. The details are boring, but basically she was harping on something really, really minor, wanting me to fix it NOW NOW NOW, dammit! and I wasn't having any of it. Normally I am a tactful, kind, sympathetic person (shaddap, Leo) when approached with a problem. When I have two servers to build, twenty accounts to add, and a whole pile of other little niggly issues to take care of, the diplomatic part of my brain short-circuits and fries. LDB kept going on and on and on and finally I snapped, "Listen, I have about sixteen million things to do before Friday, ALL of which are more important than this. Now if you want me to address this issue, which is TOTALLY COSMETIC and is NOT affecting production, I will. But it won't be til the end of the week at the EARLIEST. I HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO." She huffed off and I put on Denis Leary (No Cure For Cancer) and cranked my headphones up to 11.
The rest of the day went pretty much like that, until I was literally snarling, and even our Windows guy was treading lightly around me. Poor guy.
Can I Run Away Now?
As you probably have read, Ian and I are divorcing (or going to as soon as we get our money straightened out), and I am moving in with a friend. To this end, I went to Target tonight to pick up some miscellaneous items: a lamp, couple of shelves, and so on. In a moment of weakness, I bought a lava lamp. I've always wanted a lava lamp. My grandmother has one on top of her TV. I used to lie on the floor and stare at it as a kid, mesmorized.
After Target, I went over to Shawn's and started getting my room set up. It's funny the things you take for granted that you have to replace when you break up with someone. I bought an alarm clock. I haven't needed an alarm clock of my own in three years. Tomorrow or the next day, I need to go get a futon. Shawn has a mattress I can use, but I don't want to sleep on the floor if I can help it. I'm too old any more. I may be living in one room, but I don't have to live like a college student.
This whole thing is making me very melancholy. I feel like a big failure. Intellectually, I know we haven't failed. It's amazing we've managed to salvage any relationship at all, really. Somehow that doesn't help. Ian and I had a mutual crying session last night over me moving out. If we hated each other, it would be so much easier. I'm not exactly skipping out the door yelling, "Woo hoo, I'm free!" I know the adjustment has to be made, and well, the sooner the better, I guess. The longer it drags on, the more painful it's going to be for both of us. I don't know that I can take any more of that.
I was fucking crying in the car on the way back from Shawn's. God, I suck. I still feel like I could burst into tears any minute. This is so hard.
I have yet to tell my parents. Ain't that gonna be a load of laughs. I have a feeling they're going to try to talk me out of it. The way I feel right now, they better not, because I'll lose it. I am about two inches from the end of my rope and barely hanging on. I hope nobody tries to fuck with me at work this week, or I really will go off. It's nobody's fault, I know. That also means there's nothing anyone can do to fix this. I hate being in a situation that's broken and there's no good way to put the pieces back together. It freaks me out.
This weekend would be an excellent time to get good and fucking smashed. Bill and I are going to San Francisco for Moni's graduation party on Friday. We're crashing at Leo's place, and rest assured that I plan to get absolutely blitzed Friday night and stay that way the rest of the weekend. Cause damn, I need it.
-- marcie.