12.16.98
Not a particularly good day. That's why I'm home instead of toiling "for the kaiser." I seem to have developed an evil prostatitis which is making concentration difficult. Spelling and typos abound also...thank Buddha for spell checkers.
I've taken this opportunity to do something silly. I'm going to clean my office, clear a hole on my desk (I realized this morning that there is no place to write anymore), clip my nose hairs, visit Nieman Marcus, and try not to become too depressed in this, the ending of this year of grace.
QE2 describes bad hair years as "Annae Horribilus." (hey whaddya know...I can still conjugate Latin!) I'm going to have to rip that phrase off to describe 1998 as a whole. I started the whole thing off quite well, and very happy. I had my new position (which I loved, and why not? I wrote the job description) my new money, and a private office with a door. I was given free reign of the quality control programs and developed a fine, comprehensive training scheme from the ground up, which should be ISO 9000 compliant with a few slight modifications.
Zap. What the wolf woman gives, the wolf woman takes away. I complained to the highest echelons, and received exactly the responses I expected. I was demoted because I was obviously unhappy, and would be more content with more hours and less pay. Remember what I said earlier about the corporate culture being as funky as Stilton? Still, I persevere.
Consequently, my personal life has suffered, for among other reasons, the fact that if I want to pay bills, I have to travel extensively and rack up obscene amounts of overtime. There have also been some communication based problems within my relationships, but when I'm depressed, I don't want to talk. I don't like to discuss the evils of the world. I don't find it enlightening, and quite frankly, I would rather fix my own problems. I believe that if I accept full and total responsibility for my actions, I can resolve the difficulties with more permanence and grace.
For a while this year, RR was convinced that I ought to turn to chemistry to solve my depression, but I disagree. I am of the opinion that too many people are on anxiolytic drugs than should be. Face facts, folks. Life has ups and downs. Get over it. I believe that we learn from moments of depression, and that they ought not be wiped off the mind with diazepam or be turned into an enduring Prozac glaze. I see too many people who are on antidepressant therapy, and do not agree with what people say about this type of therapy being invisible. I've started playing a game where I guess the drug and dosage that they are taking. I'm pretty good at guessing Prozac, Wellbutrin, and Buspar, but sometimes, I miss with Xanax. I know that I can't be the only person who can see these subtle changes, and if I can sit down with a patient, converse with them for a few short moments and think 'hmmm. Amitriptaline 25mg tab. TID' then hear "Oh, I take Elavil three times a day...is that ok?" I have to shrug.
Instead of seeking easy cures through medical science, I do as my forefathers have done. I cope, cuz the prospect of sitting across a desk from someone and watching the wheels in their brain turn is too much.
A lot of good has come of this year, however. Through the benefit of this machine, I have met some good, caring people, and I have learned a great deal about myself as a result. I would like to think, and sincerely hope that I have helped a couple of folks through some rough times, and unbeknownst to them, they have helped me in the process. I enjoy taking the role of educator, and do it willingly whenever I can.
My horoscope today says that I should concentrate on work and lay aside my lusty side. I'm going to have a wank anyway, consequences and prostate infection be damned! Besides it might be interesting to cum blood.... (editorial comment: Uhh, yes, and it was quite painful. Wouldn't suggest it in the future.)
I've taken this opportunity to do something silly. I'm going to clean my office, clear a hole on my desk (I realized this morning that there is no place to write anymore), clip my nose hairs, visit Nieman Marcus, and try not to become too depressed in this, the ending of this year of grace.
QE2 describes bad hair years as "Annae Horribilus." (hey whaddya know...I can still conjugate Latin!) I'm going to have to rip that phrase off to describe 1998 as a whole. I started the whole thing off quite well, and very happy. I had my new position (which I loved, and why not? I wrote the job description) my new money, and a private office with a door. I was given free reign of the quality control programs and developed a fine, comprehensive training scheme from the ground up, which should be ISO 9000 compliant with a few slight modifications.
Zap. What the wolf woman gives, the wolf woman takes away. I complained to the highest echelons, and received exactly the responses I expected. I was demoted because I was obviously unhappy, and would be more content with more hours and less pay. Remember what I said earlier about the corporate culture being as funky as Stilton? Still, I persevere.
Consequently, my personal life has suffered, for among other reasons, the fact that if I want to pay bills, I have to travel extensively and rack up obscene amounts of overtime. There have also been some communication based problems within my relationships, but when I'm depressed, I don't want to talk. I don't like to discuss the evils of the world. I don't find it enlightening, and quite frankly, I would rather fix my own problems. I believe that if I accept full and total responsibility for my actions, I can resolve the difficulties with more permanence and grace.
For a while this year, RR was convinced that I ought to turn to chemistry to solve my depression, but I disagree. I am of the opinion that too many people are on anxiolytic drugs than should be. Face facts, folks. Life has ups and downs. Get over it. I believe that we learn from moments of depression, and that they ought not be wiped off the mind with diazepam or be turned into an enduring Prozac glaze. I see too many people who are on antidepressant therapy, and do not agree with what people say about this type of therapy being invisible. I've started playing a game where I guess the drug and dosage that they are taking. I'm pretty good at guessing Prozac, Wellbutrin, and Buspar, but sometimes, I miss with Xanax. I know that I can't be the only person who can see these subtle changes, and if I can sit down with a patient, converse with them for a few short moments and think 'hmmm. Amitriptaline 25mg tab. TID' then hear "Oh, I take Elavil three times a day...is that ok?" I have to shrug.
Instead of seeking easy cures through medical science, I do as my forefathers have done. I cope, cuz the prospect of sitting across a desk from someone and watching the wheels in their brain turn is too much.
A lot of good has come of this year, however. Through the benefit of this machine, I have met some good, caring people, and I have learned a great deal about myself as a result. I would like to think, and sincerely hope that I have helped a couple of folks through some rough times, and unbeknownst to them, they have helped me in the process. I enjoy taking the role of educator, and do it willingly whenever I can.
My horoscope today says that I should concentrate on work and lay aside my lusty side. I'm going to have a wank anyway, consequences and prostate infection be damned! Besides it might be interesting to cum blood.... (editorial comment: Uhh, yes, and it was quite painful. Wouldn't suggest it in the future.)
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