Excessive

I think I'm really starting to dislike sitting here and staring at this screen, staring at this edit box and coming up blank, coming up completely uninspired, completely empty of any writing. It's been a problem, or is a problem, and will most likely continue to be.

Today wasn't the best day; today wasn't even that good of a day. Work made me angry and frustrated, filled with violent energy. The ride home made me sad and angry, being home I felt lost and chaotic, destructive and confused. It's so easy to be tipped a certain direction, so easy to have something trigger a fall or whatever you want to call it. All old news, all stuff I've written a thousand times, repeated over and over, as if it's some kind of new discovery. I realize it's pathetic, self-indulgent and quite pointless, but I seem drawn to doing it, as if it has some kind of benefit or positive effect.

I'm not a miserable person, especially lately. I am not a miserable person, I'm simply weak.

Today started off well, which is good, which is fun.

I started work at 12pm. Yes. These are sentence fragments, so what? Sometimes I do it on purpose, others, it's because my train of thought hit a brick wall and I can't continue translating the thought into words, and into the keyboard, so I place a period and move on... sometimes I'm okay with that, other times I'm not so much. Anyway, I started work at 12pm, and while I know Kyle reads this, I'll just come out and say, the following is not about him, and he knows who I'm complaining about, but Jesus fucking Christ, there are people at work that are just so bad at their job, so bad at cooking and time management and organization, common cooking sense and common sense in general are a mystery to them, and it just leads to so many frustrations. Doing lower priority jobs for much, much longer than should be neccessary is probably what frustrates me the most, but there are countless other things that I won't mention quite yet.

The first thing I did when I got to work was make a nice big list on the whiteboard of almost everything we had to do for the dinner at night, and then most of the stuff we had to do for the following day, Sunday. Once that was set up and ready to be followed, I made a big batch of mashed potatoes (enough for 103 people), made creme brulees, and did a lot of work/prep on Sunday's stuff, mainly because we finished everything for the wedding fairly early on. We plated, and it went well, and after a bit more work, and a bit more brunch prep, Julie drove me home.

I got home around 10:15pm or so, it was kinda late, but still earlier than a couple times in the last month. I open tomorrow at 7am, so I'm going to be tired... there's no reason to lie to myself about it, or pretend like it won't effect me, but it's almost midnight, and I'm not going to sleep yet. What's more disappointing is that I don't have Monday off, so I have to be tired as shit tomorrow and then get up and do it again the next day, which would normally be fine, but close/open from tonight is going to set me up to be dead tired.

When I got home, I decided to start my bedtime process right away, because I knew it would be the most comforting. I ran a bath, and enjoyed that for a bit, got out and watched last week's Big Bang Theory while I ate a caesar salad for dinner. After that, I wasted a bit of time but eventually started writing and put on an SNL repeat (Jimmy's Christmas episode!) I will be going to sleep pretty soon but not yet. My sleeping pill is kicking my ass and I can barely think, so I should stop.

Pretend I complained for a few more paragraphs here, and we'll call it an entry.

692 words