Whew. Well, the good news is, I only have five more minutes to go, but this afternoon has not been the easiest. My frustration tolerance got disturbingly low, and I almost got pissed off at a couple of the people that called, but managed to avoid it. I've found that settling into a sort of bland listlessness seems to keep a person from making any bad decisions when slipping like this. Ah, sweet apathy. After all, if it wasn't for apathy, we wouldn't have...something or other, doesn't matter anyway. So this has been a spectacularly bad hair day for me, not that I am usually too concerned with my hair. I have a small, Flock-of-Seagulls-like section of my hair standing up on one side where I slept. No amount of brushing can get it to go down. This has the lovely effect of making me look like a complete incompetent, which is a secret I try deperately not to give away at work, lest they act upon it.



Reminders to self: pay phone bill, remember three day weekend this weekend, call Kat before she moves, find JJ. Just kidding on that last one. Everyone who knows JJ knows it's impossible to find him.

...

Okay, actual depression setting in from dysphoria - time to go home.