So, I’ve got a rather horrid case of the blues. Currently, I’m in hour 72 of a Leverage marathon (there aren’t really that many episodes, but I’m not above repeats: I’m just staring blankly at the tv from my blanket cocoon, anyway.) I can’t even focus enough to read, and without that, my entire identity is up for questioning.
I may have been taken over by the pod people. I’ll carefully monitor the symptoms.
Reason for all of this angst you ask? I have work drama. Oh, do I have work drama.
My boss, who used to be a very good friend, has decided I am the source of all of his problems. Lovely to be so important, eh? Not so much. I think he’s trying the lame-o boyfriend move of trying to make me break up with him. Or rather, make me quit, instead of firing me. Thus far, his method has been comprised primarily of holding one-sided private “discussions:” he yells, I sob. (I don’t deal with confrontation terribly well. Also, I don’t deal with drama very well. Also, people don’t scream at me. Ever.)
After being screamed at on Friday, I’m having a bit of trouble shaking it off.
So, I’m curled up on the couch, and on my third glass of wine. Before six. On a Tuesday. I am not proud. The wine, however, is making me feel better.