Rawr. Rawrrrrr.

Not happy at work. My hard work and amicable nature (I am a nice girl at work, honest) are not rewarded. Not to say that I expect a pat on the back or a cookie, but geez. The boss has been a perpetual pain in my backside since March pledge started and it doesn’t look like she will stop any time soon. Her boss is becoming a monstrous thorn in our sides, to be fair, so that’s one reason why she’s been so difficult. I don’t care for the martyred act she puts on when she’s not the only one who’s put in overtime lately. Seriously, it’s falling on deaf ears. (See my last few posts filled with mental anguish.) How do you tell someone like that to shut up? The answer: You don’t.

Less happy at home, as sister is in the hospital with appendicitis. Or is it? She’s been at the hospital all day and they haven’t done surgery yet. Dunno wtf they are waitin’ on. I am pleased she’s obviously doing better. For one thing, I won’t have to try and fight my boss over leaving work to see how she’s doing or something, because when I brought it up today she was very pissy. (“Oh, *sigh.* We are already SO far BEHIND as it IS, so it really wouldn’t MATTER all THAT much… I was going to take Friday OFF but now I don’t know…”) I know damn well that if her sister was hospitalized, she’d tell us all to go to hell and go over there. Rawrrrr.

So. Frustrated.

I am trying to crank out a prospectus for a paper on Lafayette’s first journey to America, about his reasons for the trip, what the consequences were, how it helped the cause, why he was successful, etc. etc. and so forth. I have a title page. I am very pleased with the title page. I hope the first sentence turns out as nicely as the title page.

I am listening to jazz. Jazz is usually a boon to writing for me, but tonight? No dice. Too much on the brain, and these wonderful old sappy love ballads are making the mind wander. I need a vacation and… perhaps some things that can’t be mentioned in this medium, I don’t know. I suspect a prolonged nap and a bottle of Tequila Rose might help.

Back to the salt mines. Onward, y’all.

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