Here's why I don't want to drive the hour
Mar. 10th, 2004 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tiamatlady- she doesn't like my haircut, thinks it's "too short" in the back, and gave me that "oh you got your hair cut too short" pity look.
- The hour long ride in which I ran the gamut (I know that's not spelled right) of emotions. If I weren't ABSOLUTELY sure, I'd swear I was pregnant, on that particular emotional roller coaster. Unless it's to be a virgin birth (so to speak, you pervs) I'm not, and I'm not Catholic anymore either, so don't start. Seriously, all mood swingies can stop anytime now.
- My hell client calling, needing to vent (OK) needing to vent for 20 minutes (not really OK) and her ORDERING ME off the phone. OK I know I'm on her time, but it wasn't a personal call, so to speak, I wouldn't be billing her for it, and it's MY JOB to talk to this woman. Honestly, don't speak to me like I'm a 15 year old on punishment.
- My phone ringing again (another client) and her glaring at me. This is a call I NEEDED to take, since it hinges on my schedule tomorrow. She doesn't care about tomorrow, she cares about today when I'm on her time.
- to top it off, I just don't feel like I'm going to get out of here in either time, or a good enough mood to go out.
Now, HERE'S where I don't want any arguement. This is not the first time this client has cost me a night out, or, as I see it, a night off. I give up EVERY OTHER night I want to go out. Hell nights, Miss Gothic Mass, parties, Goffee, even casual dinners, so I can work. I promised myself that at LEAST I could go relax every Wednesday night. I can watch Angel, get ready, go out and see people, have a drink, and just revel in 3 hours where its NOT POSSIBLE for me to work.
And, thanks to her, I can't. Even if I get out of here, my mood is so foul, I can't even contemplate it. I don't want to talk to anyone, not even Hottie Pants Constantine. THAT'S saying something. (Awwww, that just brought a grin to my face. You think he'd let me have a picture of him to carry around and look at when I get depressed? Wow, that's just plain WEIRD isn't it?)
I'm just going to go home, pull my covers over my heads, watch Witch Hunter Robin and go to sleep.
I mean, I'm getting angry at people who say hi. I'm angry when my friends talk to my other friends, but don't call me. Except I know it's because I can't talk to them anyway. This has got to stop.
The Madness Must End!
*runs around, screaming*
Why do I suddenly feel like Marie Antionette?
Am I going to start THROWING cake too?
Cake or death?
Death please.
We're out of....did you say Death?
Yes, please.
Um, noone's ever asked for Death before.
Oh. Does that mean no Death.
No, we're just confused, that's all.
*sighs* BAck to work before she gets off the phone. My rebellion is over. Rebel Scum.
- The hour long ride in which I ran the gamut (I know that's not spelled right) of emotions. If I weren't ABSOLUTELY sure, I'd swear I was pregnant, on that particular emotional roller coaster. Unless it's to be a virgin birth (so to speak, you pervs) I'm not, and I'm not Catholic anymore either, so don't start. Seriously, all mood swingies can stop anytime now.
- My hell client calling, needing to vent (OK) needing to vent for 20 minutes (not really OK) and her ORDERING ME off the phone. OK I know I'm on her time, but it wasn't a personal call, so to speak, I wouldn't be billing her for it, and it's MY JOB to talk to this woman. Honestly, don't speak to me like I'm a 15 year old on punishment.
- My phone ringing again (another client) and her glaring at me. This is a call I NEEDED to take, since it hinges on my schedule tomorrow. She doesn't care about tomorrow, she cares about today when I'm on her time.
- to top it off, I just don't feel like I'm going to get out of here in either time, or a good enough mood to go out.
Now, HERE'S where I don't want any arguement. This is not the first time this client has cost me a night out, or, as I see it, a night off. I give up EVERY OTHER night I want to go out. Hell nights, Miss Gothic Mass, parties, Goffee, even casual dinners, so I can work. I promised myself that at LEAST I could go relax every Wednesday night. I can watch Angel, get ready, go out and see people, have a drink, and just revel in 3 hours where its NOT POSSIBLE for me to work.
And, thanks to her, I can't. Even if I get out of here, my mood is so foul, I can't even contemplate it. I don't want to talk to anyone, not even Hottie Pants Constantine. THAT'S saying something. (Awwww, that just brought a grin to my face. You think he'd let me have a picture of him to carry around and look at when I get depressed? Wow, that's just plain WEIRD isn't it?)
I'm just going to go home, pull my covers over my heads, watch Witch Hunter Robin and go to sleep.
I mean, I'm getting angry at people who say hi. I'm angry when my friends talk to my other friends, but don't call me. Except I know it's because I can't talk to them anyway. This has got to stop.
The Madness Must End!
*runs around, screaming*
Why do I suddenly feel like Marie Antionette?
Am I going to start THROWING cake too?
Cake or death?
Death please.
We're out of....did you say Death?
Yes, please.
Um, noone's ever asked for Death before.
Oh. Does that mean no Death.
No, we're just confused, that's all.
*sighs* BAck to work before she gets off the phone. My rebellion is over. Rebel Scum.
