This week, I'm tasked with cleaning and organizing the shit out of this...shithole. When the company moved in almost two years ago, they had a ton of just random junk that got stuffed in various dark corners and things. And I'm getting rid of all that crap. So, you know...yay physical labor?
But, again, I was going to be positive. I mean, at least I have something to do, as opposed to my usual day. And yesterday went remarkably fast since I was actually being productive and like, doing shit. I made a decent dent in a couple of the easiest rooms yesterday, and today, I decided to tackle one of the worst---the dreaded back closet. And so, I wore yoga pants to work. I mean, I topped the yoga pants with a tunic and a necklace, so I don't look completely slovenly, but I feel slovenly. And it is glorious. Best day ever, right? I was planning on it.But, I arrived at work, and immediately go to work, and...dust. Spiderwebs. Things that are heavy. Things that are like, what the fuck, what is this fucking nonsense here? Is it alive? I don't know. And why do we have so many boxes? What the hell is going on? What is the meaning of life? Is that a quarter? Still, I soldiered on. I planned a Diet Coke reward when I got most of the room cleared out. Which will take awhile.
BUT then, I returned to my desk to find a response to one of the emails I sent out to my bosses today. And the writer clearly had not read my other email yet, and reprimanded me for something I had already explained has nothing to do with me. AND NOW I FEEL MUCH RAGE. AND THERE WILL BE NO MORE POSITIVITY.
So I'm drinking a Diet Coke.
Worst day ever.
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