Work is killing me.
I keep hoping I'm emotional because of hormones or something. Because seriously, I'm going to lose it soon.
I cannot keep on top of everything. I'd been telling myself for awhile I was doing well, and that by this time next year, I'll have a better handle on things. It will all be ok.
Turns out? I think I'm full of shit. This has been a total fuck-all week.
The feeling I cannot do anything right, ever, is overwhelming. Logically, I know I can do a lot right, that I am doing a lot right, that no one can be perfect, that my job situation is fraught at best. It doesn't matter, as I beat myself up for making mistakes.
It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have a way of being whoppers or just happening to be the things that get noticed. Why couldn't they be like my predecessor's mistakes? Buried in the sand until someone like me comes in to clean up? Why, why must they be visible for everyone?
I am cranky and tired and angry about the weather closing policy, and yet desperately hoping things go as they were planning and we have to be at work at noon tomorrow. Because then, there's a chance it gets fixed. Otherwise, oh dear. I can't contemplate it. And either way, I'll be working my ass off to get these stupid monthly verifications finished on time.
Funny thing is, when the week started, that was all I had to do. Haven't really touched them yet.
Oh well, weekend is almost here, right? And nobody will die or be seriously injured or even terribly inconvenienced by my errors. Governments will not collapse, people will not go hungry, nobody will have their house foreclosed on or their electricity be shut off because I was late turning in a custodial request. So. We'll all be ok.
Still, I said screw the diet and am consoling myself with cookie dough. Wise? Probably not. Worth it anyway? Hells yeah.
* * * * *
Editing to add the following:
My Spurs beat the mthfr'ing Lakers in LA with a tip in at the buzzer and that is fucking awesome. I love when they win, I love when the Lakers lose, I love most when the Spurs beat the Lakers. Full vindication for .4 or for the non-call on Derek Fisher riding Brent Barry like a horse? Of course not, but damn good none the less. Widen that winning gap there, fellas. Best record in the league. Great year to be a Spurs fan.