23 April 2008

Tears and booze.

There's nothing like showing up to mouse poop on your desk in the morning after a day that had you nearly in tears. Apparently they're all over our floor. Poop in my coworker's desk drawer. The office across the hall? Stuart Little has chewed through plastic and strewn spaghetti from the trash on a chair. GROSS. Our floor is now blanketed with classic traps, the traps that the mouse is supposed to go in and not come out of and poison (there's some under my desk!).

I suppose it's good that I've been so busy the past two days that I've not been able to eat. I've been on the verge of hurling anyway. It's a nice combo?

Tears and booze seem to be the theme of the past couple of days. Well, I managed to mostly stave off the tears last night. I don't need to subject The Boy I Currently Like to tears. Not unless he's the one making me cry, of course. And he's been far too nice thus far for that to happen.

Today was an 11-hour day with no food and missed yoga. I suppose it's okay to miss a workout if I'm taking in under 1,000 calories in a day. Ooooh, healthy!

Today also featured a boss who forgot to take the proposals that gave me an eye twitch yesterday to Fed Ex. They were due today in Florida and Alabama. A last-minute meeting that did nothing for me made me 20 minutes late for a phone interview. I'm worried though that I might end up making another horrible decision if I get offered another job. But sweet, merciful crap, I can't take much of this job. I spend most of my day in and out of tiny panic attacks. It's not good. Especially when I've not even been there a month.

Clearly, something is up, because I am having weird dreams. Like, a sex dream about Cute Coworker. Not good. And that dream just got more bizarre after the coworker sex part. When life shows up in my dreams, it's a sign I need to take a step back.

I don't know where I'm going with this, because I am drinking on an empty stomach and my brain is fried. Plus, Macho Man is on his way over to pick me up for Happy Hour. Obviously, this is exactly what I need.


Shelb said...

I'm not just sure any job is worth your sanity. I was that hippy kid who always told my parents I'd live in a cardboard box on the street if I was happy. Obviously not, but there's something to be said for liking what you do.

The goal, perhaps, is to figure out what you really like to do, and find someone to pay you for doing it. What the heck do I know, I'm unemployed, haha.

Muffy Willowbrook said...

Oh Geez...You should definitely not have to put up with mouse poo all over your work area. That is just beyond disgusting.

You definitely deserve a happy hour booze fest.

Jess said...

Shelb, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I keep hoping one of these days I'll figure it out. And maybe I will.

The mice are fucking with us. They (because it can't be just one) took all of the poison pellets out of the poison box in the office across the hall and moved them into a desk drawer. But there was no poop on my desk this morning, so um, things are looking up?

scargosun said...

Been there. No job is worth cracking up over. That is why the job I have now pays less BUT I can leave it at the office. BTW, I think that the mouce infestation qualifies as a hostile workplace. Maybe you could sue.

scargosun said...

Really, I can spell too M O U S E

Jess said...

Yeah, I just need to find something else, since I can't exactly go back on unemployment if I quit.

I've told them that if I see a mouse, I am so out of there. And I might not ever come back. So, it's not like they haven't been warned. I hope blog ging can serve as documentation when I sue/call the health department.

Anonymous said...

AHHH!! This is bad! So bad!!!

I hope you get another job very, very soon.

You will-- I know it!