stolen...

I think public relations has dulled my love of writing. You'd think that getting into a career where you get to write on a daily basis would just give you fuel, but in this case it hasn't. I have a history with my company, one where I've seen insensitive layoffs, large mergers and other corporate-type stuff. Yay for the bottom-line I guess, but I feel more and more like one of the nameless rabble with a barcode pasted to my forehead. Then again, it could be that 13 years is too long to stay anywhere. Maybe I'm just wiped out from this stupid head cold (and newly welcomed cramps to make things really fun) and hate the world today.

On another depressing note, I can't quit thinking about my Dad and Peanut. I wonder if she made it through the night. I will call a little later to check in.

Boo-freakin'-hoo. I could keep complaining for entertainment's sake, but golly-gosh-darn-it, I just don't think I will. Besides, it's time for lunch, throughout which I will get to study for tomorrow night's class. Boo-freakin'-hoo.