My anxiety levels are as high as Mount Everest (again), special thanks to this almost-every-week of overtime that since since May. What can I do though? I have a job to do, and I do not want to disappoint the company. But I feel my brain and that same creeping anxiety attack are having their own baby anxiety attack. What the shit? I’m seriously considering the 2-month resignation notice if this does not stop.
In the meantime, one way to distract myself from this work anxiety is writing either on my journal or writing here on The Dispatch. Now let me distract myself with the return of Sunday Night Questions, where I answer a set of 5 yes-or-no questions, and I can but am not obligated explain the answers. I’d like to rant tonight, so expect a lot of it after the jump.
And here we go… Continue reading Sunday Night Questions V
A friend with a different world view
left recently without notice
and no path pointing back
I have to admit:
Bonds crumbling abruptly eat me alive
but I have spent years moping with losses
while forgetting the 52 who stayed
Now I realize:
I would rather grow with those who remain like a tree
than waste waters on dead plants.
(Image Credit: Pixabay)
Good grief. I worked on more than 10 webpages today. Just 25. No big deal… NO. Shut up. It is a big deal. My brain got dumped by shitloads of sketching, layouting and tweaking images.
So far, the worst website clients are the ones who are involved in real estate. There is nothing wrong with being meticulous; there is nothing wrong with having attention to detail. But pair that up with being fickle leads to utter chaos. The same “how about you change the homepage?” 15 goddamn times? Sickening as fuck. Make up your damned mind, man.
I need a drink. Tea will do. I’m fucking tired.