07/10/2005 Posted @ 06:13 PM PD/ST: "Crying"

It's Sunday afternoon and hot. Well, those I talk to on the phone every day at work who live where the temp soars above the 90's would think 78 was heaven. But I think it's too warm, on the hairy edge of uncomfortable.

And I'm exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that comes from working 12 hour days at a fast-paced job where people's needs are immediate and what we do is important to the health of women with heavy menstrual bleeding or breast cancer.

I had a talk with my manager about the OT, the last minute "I need you to stay" pleas that keep me from being able to plan my own life and take care of my own business. Friday was my 46th birthday and no one could guarantee I would get out in time to have dinner with SisterR. Fortunately, I did but it was touch and go and we had to play it by ear right up until the last minute.

I'm still a temp and I have applied for the job but I need to be able to count on some things, especially since classes start again at the end of next month. I shouldn't have to not schedule things, like PT, because I don't know what's going on at work. Manager Man agreed that the OT we are working is ridiculous and things have been difficult and he is trying to work with the other groups involved so we don't have to stay so late. No one warned me that quarter end would be as maniacal as it was and we knew making the transition to the 2nd product line would be chaotic but it just seems non-stop.

But that's not all that's going on. There's emotional roiling, as usual. Trying to deal with emotional detritus from graduation, the results of my Algebra class and finding the time and energy to do the projects that need to be done before August 22.

Then today came something that made my sexual abuse scar itch and burn, and email from an acquaintance who has two autistic boys about a school bus driver who "forgot" he had two four-year-olds with special needs on his bus and left them alone while he stopped at his home to go to the bathroom and then got "distracted" by a phone call. How does that happen?

7/7 and the bombings in London break my heart. We live in a world that is so mixed up and terrifying, and we all look for the glimmer of hope that something is going to go right for all of us. I'm frustrated and exhausted and feel like sitting down and sobbing. I need a dandelion break.