BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE!
My life is a room. One. Big. Dark. Room.

My job has become a joke. I spend my day sitting in front of a desk with virtually nothing to do except surf the net. And while on the surface that may sound like a good thing, it's not when I sit approximately 10 feet away from the president, who can see everything I'm doing or not doing from where she sits.

I really think I'm going to lose my job. It's just a matter of time. And what makes me angry is that there's a huge division who would kill for my skills & help, but I can't offer any of it to them. Why? Because I'm chained to a goddamn desk in another building.

I am a resource, and this school is wasting me. But then, that's been the story of my life. All I've ever wanted was a chance to be useful, & only rarely have I been given the opportunity.

I've seen the Cute Guy a few times since our big blowout, but we haven't talked much. I don't bother. I wasted an entire year of my life trying to show him that I wasn't a horrible monster. He's still not buying it, so the hell with him.

My life is a waste. I am a waste. It should have been me who went up in ashes on 9/11 instead of some firefighter with a wife & kids. No one would have missed me. Even my cat would have found someone to care for him.

I spent the better part of last weekend agonizing over whether to start sending out resumes again. Talking to the awesome VP helped. And after all that, you know how many I've sent out? One.

God, I'm such a loser.

Tomorrow is my p-doc appointment. I'll be telling her to take her Zoloft & shove it. If this is all that's left of my life, I pray that it ends soon. Sometimes that's the only comfort in my life--that every day when I wake up I'm one day closer to death. One day closer to this miserable shithole of my existence ending forever. And going someplace where there's no more misery, no more pain, no more fear, no more anxiety. And no more shitty reality TV.
- posted by Pat @ 10:05 PM