Crap is going down at work and I am not sure if I'll have this same job next week. It's that ridiculous. My position at the clinic may be vastly changing, changing so much that it's not at all the same position. More hours, more work, same pay, plus working weekends and late shifts. Which is NOT what I was hired for, nor is it what I've been doing the last year.
I'm feeling angry, and bitter, and lost. I've had lots of wishy washy answers and I'm not sure what to make of it.
So I'm trying to ignore it. That's the plan. Better than fretting about it endlessly, I suppose. My favorite option: quit, write my novel, get published, because a best-selling author. Have I mentioned that I'm going to write a novel this year? Yeah, it's my New Years Resolution.
Oh, and get pregnant. That's a resolution as well. Sort of a big one.
So I'm in a pissy mood but it appears that listening to lots of eighties music and painting my names dark grey with silver glitter seems to help. That, plus lots of tea. And even more clementine oranges. I've had six today.
That's a lie. It was 7. Possibly 8, I'm not entirely sure. A lot. A lot of oranges.
So that's where I am right now. Bitter, frustrated, and planning on becoming a brilliant author so I don't have to deal with this 9-5 rubbish anymore. I'm sure I'll succeed.
Guess I'll always have my self-assurance, right?