Je Suis Fatigué
|May 10, 2000
May 8, 2000
May 4, 2000
May 3, 2000
May 2, 2000
May 1, 2000
April 30, 2000
April 29, 2000
||Too many people want things, and don't want to do what they're supposed to do to get them. They just want them, and expect you to find a way to give it to them, regardless of your situation.
You tell people when and how to ask for technical equipment, and repoll them weeks later to make sure, then go late before locking in the budget, and then lock in the budget, and that's when people ask you for computers. Or ask you to have things ready. Or ask you to make that one little call for them. Or ask....
I'm not well right now. I can't even define my symptoms very well. But I'm sure the stress isn't helping. It's doing wonders for contributing to my fatalism, though. I want to be asleep, but I'm at work, waiting for three callbacks.
These are the days when you should be on suicide watch. It's not despair that kills you. It's that ever present need to get out from under this mess!!! I'm convinced of this.
I am so. Bloody. Tired. I feel like the marrow has seeped out of my bones. I feel like I'm never going to be well. I'm never going to be healthy. I'm just going to continue to spike up a bit, then decline, then spike back up, then decline, until finally I die and that's it.
It's turned me antisocial. When I'm with friends, I barely speak to them. I don't return e-mail, either. I just sort of tune out. I endure. I just kind of exist, like a vegetable but with a sarcasm track. For Christ's sake, I watched the entire of an infomercial last night, lying in bed trying to sleep. I vaguely considered getting the Popeil Pasta Maker. It looked so darn easy and economical too, at four easy payments of $39.99 -- no, wait Ron! Now it's four easy payments of $24.99, and did we mention it can make sausage, bagels and chocolate pasta, too?
Why on God's green Earth would I want Chocolate Pasta? Why couldn't I just sleep, instead? Why can't I sleep when I want and stay awake when I want? What's the frickin' deal here?
Tonight, we drive down to do some banking and pick up my Cell Phone. Oh boy. I'm excited now. Now when I do get some sleep, people can call me and interrupt it.
Do I sound cynical? I am. I'm totally cynical. Fatalism will do that to you. I just want out of all this. It's too much. I'm not good enough to overcome it. You know, when you watch a Behind the Music about a dead person, they always talk about succumbing to their demons. But there's no demon to succumb to. I can't just throw my arms up and say "okay, I give, you win, take me!" It doesn't work like that.
Besides, I'd probably end up on hold to the demon for an hour, then get his voicemail, then have to call him back, then have to go out to bid....