duck and cover...

(Last Home, this post ain't got nuthin' to do with you.)
There are times when I think my head is going to pop off. This is one of those times. Next week I start a 56 hour work week for 9 months (and I need to squeeze a hysterectomy in between semesters). I'm a little nervous because I'm not a morning person and I have to start coming in at 7 am every day and after I put in 8 hours, I have to go to my intership where I need to have lots of energy to learn.

Work has been super busy and I swear the harder I work the more criticism I get. I have really just shut down at work and only let my nutty personality out every once in a while. Work harder; get appreciated less. What's the point? Since Daddy died I am just not in the mood to put up with stupid shit from people and I've jumped on a couple of people when it was not advantageous to do so.

I know I'm working through the anger stage of grief, but being in PR right now is an even worse match for me than usual. I'm not good at ass-kissing--never have been. I guess I get that from my Dad. I like to think we're all worth the same precious amount. And we are as far as I am concerned. Hierarchies be damned...which I may be muttering to myself one day in the unemployment line.

At least I think I'm going to avoid the root canal. My dentist altered by bite a little and that seems to have helped. I'm still having the splint made so I won't grind my teeth so hard at night.

I think I've just worked myself up into a frenzy again...like I haven't been for months? I can't seem to calm down to pre-disaster emotional levels. It doesn't take much to push me over the edge, or make me mad, or make me cry.

With that said, I'm taking off Thursday and Friday. Half of Thursday is a skills lab in social work, but after that, I'm free. And I need it.

I am going to have more paintings up by the weekend. I have about six nearly-finished canvases. I'll be ok...just way too tense these days.