Rambling frustration

Now this is just annoying. I can’t decide how to blog what I’m thinking. That’s new.

It’s been hectic lately, in every single facet of my life. There isn’t a single piece of my day that’s mellow, except for maybe sleep.

At work, it’s summer. All these jerks are going on vacation; meanwhile, I’m filling in giant gaps to keep the work flowing. I know it’s appreciated, and it’s temporary, and blah blah blah… but it’s hard to feel anything but fiery frustration when you’re handed a new hire, extra job duties, and a smile. I can’t remember the last day we had a full staff AND everything actually showed up to work.

Trying to conceive is a joke I’m tired of hearing. I finally got my cycle again; this time, it only took 82 days. Last time, it was 96; I counted last night, trying to perk myself up by pointing out the two weeks closer to normal. The doctor said you can’t really expect ovulation during a cycle over 60 days long. I should go out Friday, when I officially hit six months of pointless trying… would it be melodramatic to wear black?

Added to that, someone should’ve read the myth of Pandora’s Box before they broke my seal and opened me up. I’d guess that I’m grieving, because the stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance; I’m going out of order, but I’m definitely traveling that road. Thanks to hormones and stress from work, I’m currently swimming in anger like a shark in chum-baited waters, hungry for blood. [insert Jaws theme]

I keep journaling on paper, writing things I can’t post in public; I hate honoring someone else’s privacy over my own urge to share, but my ethical standards require silence. Yay, ethics. [That was sarcasm.] The journal is fun, because I’ve been playing with writing backward like this:

!easily ,can I ?sentence this read you Can
.everything from me distract to helps It

Imagine that for pages and pages! It’s entertaining, and it’s not easy for anyone else to read. In a way, the words look poetic if you read them in the correct direction (i.e. from left to right). Go ahead, read the two sentences above out look, starting on the left. It can’t NOT be poetic!

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