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2001-05-17 - 11:26 p.m. **Warning: this is a rant/bitch session** I had an anxiety attack today. At work. That’s not the best place to have one. I spent the whole fucking day working on a project that I’ve known about for awhile, have three others working on it with me. I got some done, not as much as I could on it this week, for more than one reason – mainly because being the only account planner in the agency, I have to work on every single “needs to get done NOW” project in the place. Everyone I work with hates working there. There is so much complaining and bitching and “not-caring” going on, it’s sickening. And when the people who are supposed to be helping you on your project are those who care the least, nothing gets done. And I am the one who has to pick up the slack for everyone else. THAT, and as the day goes on, all these disenfranchised people are stopping in to interrupt me to complain and cry and piss and moan about how this place sucks. SHUT THE FUCK UP. I want to get into work in the morning, do my shit, trust that you will get your part done, and go home. But, no, that never happens. I come in, am told that you are doing your part, and as you complain to me, and the day progresses, I realize that your part isn’t getting done. So I’m left, at 10PM, at my computer, doing your part. Thanks. I’ve been miserable at work—I’ve complained my share as well—but I never let my mood affect my work. That’s just stupid. Even if you are miserable, and there’s too much work, the work still needs to get done. Especially if people are depending on you to do that work. That’s just being irresponsible. If you are that miserable, that it is affecting your work, do something about it. Don’t complain. I got through my anxiety attack. I realize that I get so depressed and stressed because I can’t express to people how much they are annoying the shit out of me. I have a problem saying no, I guess. Like when someone at work comes into my office to ask for my help with the “oh-so-important” problem of testing the TV/VCR prior to a new business meeting. “Christine, they’re not working”. For some reason I’ve been deemed the tech contact when our IT person isn’t there. My co-worker was pressing the remotes for the two machines, and nothing was happening. I press the power button that is conveniently located on the fucking machines THEMSELVES, and “oh my gosh!”, it works! There were no batteries in the remotes. Does that little encounter qualify me for an honorary degree in A/V? GOD, I was pissed. Especially since, as I said above, today wasn’t a “Christine has nothing to do” day. Devin comes home tomorrow. Just for a bit. I can’t wait—but I’m not drinking this weekend, and I worry that it’ll be hard for me. I need to be strong and do this—I want to do this, to see if I’m strong enough to do it.
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