I cannot even define what I’m feeling right now. It’s a mix of rage, sadness, guilt and exhaustion.
I got off from work about an hour and a half ago. It’s frikkin’ midnight. I was supposed to get out of there at 6, 7, hell, maybe 8 p.m. if things went horribly wrong, but, as always, Murphy’s law has a special chapter dedicated just for me.

Because of some insufferable asshole, some advertisements almost never made it to the newspaper, and ultimately to the pages I was designing. It seems that in this country, procrastination is not just a choice. It is a sacred religion that everybody follows blindly. Woe shall befall unto the poor soul that dares to complete it’s work on time!
…Anyway, I was told not to leave my post until those pages were completely built, so I saw myself humming the Jeopardy tune for almost five hours. Everyone was pissed off. I tried to remain calm and jovial (you know me, always cheery like a bucket o’ monkeys…) when deep inside all I really wanted to do was rip the cerebral mass through the nostrils of whoever the fuck was inept enough to wait until the last hour to do his job, while inadvertedly fucking up mine.
Under other circumstances, I would have shrugged off this incident as one of those "laboral farts" that happen from time to time in everybody’s workplace, but this time, this sort of external irresponsibility seems to be affecting something far more important to me:

My love life.

I had promised my significant other I’d see him yesterday, but, because of some articles arriving late (related to the same shit I was doing today), I had to stay a couple of hours. I scratched the idea of seeing him, since I came out tired and slightly pissed off. I could sense my BF was somewhat annoyed by the news, since this isn’t the first time this sort of shit happens. So I promised I’d drop by today right after work, if not, the day after that, and I mentioned this because deep in my mind I sort of knew that today was going to be a "fucky"day.
Well, it was. Even more than I imagined. I spent a total of 11 hrs. in that fucking place, ultimately covering for other people’s blunders. But the thing that really destroyed me was the sound of dissappointment and the dry, sarcastic remarks coming from my boyfriend, who was obviously pissed at the fact that, once again, my job had ruined a perfectly good night of some needed quality time. I felt guilty, and of course, impotent.

But then I thought, why the fuck feel guilty? This is not my fault, I’m not fuckin’ doing this on purpose! Do I look pleased with having my love life kicked in the balls by badly timed advertisements, pictures and text? Hell no. I like my job and what I do, and the people I work around. But unfortunately this is part of it, however sporadic it may be. At least I’m thankful this shit doesn’t happen every fuckin’ day, or I’d be single and bitter again.
On the other side, I love my man to death, but it kills me to have my job (which I like, as I mentioned above) sour things up like this between me and him. I know we should spend a lot more time together and I do what I can, but asking me to "get another job" is just NOT the way to deal with this. All I ask for is a little patience, and I’m more than sure that somewhere in the near future, we’ll both be rewarded for the long wait. In the meantime, I want HIM by my side, for those times when that waiting gets unbearable. So far, he has become a pillar of sanity for me, and I’d like him to remain that way.

If not, guess I’ll start running around naked and eating soap bars again.

Posted in Dark Soul, Love Life, Rants, Work |

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