now is that gratitude?
Oct. 8th, 2007 09:41 amSaw this on my first morning sweep of LJ.
Two things I'm grateful for:
My daughter, the Mouse. Always.
My family. Because they are wonderful.
I could actually go on, but I'll keep it to two for now.
* * *
Having MASSIVE computer problems.
No connectivity at home long enough to upload stupid large files to printer or to flickr. Am ready to scream. Note lack of pronouns.
In awful, awful mood this morning as well. Being reminded of gratitude was a Good Thing, because until I saw it, geez louise, was I in a hateful headspace.
It boils down to thus: I hate my dayjob. (What else is new?) But it's not an awful job. My bosses aren't evil, like previous bosses. It pays the mortgage. It allows me to survive and get other things accomplished, because I'm not whipped at the end of the day.
And I. Just. Don't. Care.
Not today. Not really any day.
I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall. I probably am.
I'm cold. I'm tired. I don't care that the dayjob gets the job done for survival.
Eh. Enough of this shit. It's an emotional temper tantrum. Ignore me. But I did need to say some more about it, even though most of this I expressed to![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
barriequark and erosgyrl on Saturday.
I'm not an office drone. This isn't who I am.
I'm an artist, gods help me.
Pardon me. I'm gonna go beat my head into my desk some more.
Two things I'm grateful for:
My daughter, the Mouse. Always.
My family. Because they are wonderful.
I could actually go on, but I'll keep it to two for now.
* * *
Having MASSIVE computer problems.
No connectivity at home long enough to upload stupid large files to printer or to flickr. Am ready to scream. Note lack of pronouns.
In awful, awful mood this morning as well. Being reminded of gratitude was a Good Thing, because until I saw it, geez louise, was I in a hateful headspace.
It boils down to thus: I hate my dayjob. (What else is new?) But it's not an awful job. My bosses aren't evil, like previous bosses. It pays the mortgage. It allows me to survive and get other things accomplished, because I'm not whipped at the end of the day.
And I. Just. Don't. Care.
Not today. Not really any day.
I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall. I probably am.
I'm cold. I'm tired. I don't care that the dayjob gets the job done for survival.
Eh. Enough of this shit. It's an emotional temper tantrum. Ignore me. But I did need to say some more about it, even though most of this I expressed to
barriequark and erosgyrl on Saturday. I'm not an office drone. This isn't who I am.
I'm an artist, gods help me.
Pardon me. I'm gonna go beat my head into my desk some more.
