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Let's review
2005-03-07 @ 7:29 p.m.

Thanks to everyone who sent congratulations on the new job. I am sorry not to have left you guestbook notes etc. in return. All I can say in my defense is that I am going batshit and probably would not even make grammatical sense if I were to write you back. Please see the following list, which should amuse you if nothing else.*

I gave notice at my job of five years on Wednesday. Since then, my boss (who I really, really wanted to leave on good terms with) has not said ONE WORD to me.

I start the new job in two weeks, getting one extra day off in between. Am not sure I'm qualified. Am not sure I can keep up the charming-and-friendly facade for longer than an hour and forty minutes (which is how long the interview took). Given that the average working day is eight hours, this could be a problem.

The Beautiful Woman of My Dreams, on whom I have had a "secret" crush for over a year, put up a personal ad and is dating someone else. The new girlfriend is... well, I shouldn't write bad things about someone I only met once, because god knows I was looking for excuses to dislike her. The bad news is I found them.

And I didn't think my feelings for TBWOMD were reciprocated. But I never asked, so I don't know for sure. And now I think this was a huge mistake, and the possibility that she might have liked me back and I just missed the window is enough to make me pathologically jealous, and if the depth of one's jealousy is a measure of one's feelings, I apparently wanted to buy this girl ten diamond rings and a villa in the south of France. OK I'm scaring myself with these exaggerations-for-comic-effect, but possibly you know what I mean.

On the heterosexual front, I can't keep my hands off my ex-boyfriend.

Which has my current boyfriend understandably pissed at me.

I'm drinking a bottle of tequila every three days. This seems excessive even to me.

My antidepressants have COMPLETELY stopped working and I am going to have to go on something new, or at least stronger.

I'm $5000 in debt as of yesterday.

My best friend's 87-year-old grandmother keeps standing me up for our lunch dates, for what I suspect is the obvious reason. This is terribly sad, as she was and even now still is one of the sharpest people I know.

My dad has bronchitis and for the first time I can remember, sounds like an old man on the phone. (He's 56.)

My author wants to do her own index. This wouldn't be my problem if I didn't have OCD and as a consequence worried about all the work my current coworkers will have to do when I am gone, because this index is going to SUCK and be a lot of work for someone. Not me.

That's all I can think of. More when I am feeling less freaked out and sorry for myself.

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wah - 2005-03-14 - 9:24 a.m.

Let's review - 2005-03-07 - 7:29 p.m.

- - 2005-03-02 - 1:07 a.m.

yay? - 2005-02-16 - 5:53 p.m.

all apologies - 2005-02-15 - 5:56 p.m.

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