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1�0�101010�0�1 2003-05-29, 11:00 p.m.

7 days worth of rant


I just tried to pour my heart out here after 7 days of putting it off, and my computer wigged out and deleted my long entry. And if it had been a week different than the week I've had, I'd probably sit here and cheerfully retype it all. But fuck it. My stomach hurts after the Korean food I ate tonight and I was writing about job stress and the futility of therapy and other things that just make me unhappy. I was writing about how I've been shuffling back and forth between work and guilty-because-I'm-not-working personal life, blindly and frantically because I'm desperately overworked and feel like I'm drowning. And knowing this is not the way I'm supposed to be feeling, or behaving, four weeks before my wedding, the happiest and most glorious time of my life, doesn't help. I feel bitter and pathetic and crumpled and small. I also feel fat, which is different than how I feel small, so never mind the contradicition. I'm PMSing, so never mind any of this.

I just want to be happy, goddammit. I want to be excited. I want to believe in myself. I want to be a good friend. All of my life I've let work consume me. I've put off being a happy person ... literally, I've fucking put it off short-term for the past 20 years. "I'll be more relaxed after this project/quarter/year is over." And then it starts all over again. I'm not going to do this any more. I'm not going to let work consume my life. If it means fucking quitting corporate life and finding some nice boutiquey retail job and freelancing and writing stories and going back to school and teaching and stringing together a living, that's what I'll do. I'm not going to be a withered and stressed out woman whose marriage and life are consumed by her work-related misery. I'm not going to do it.

It can start here, now. I just need to make a decision. Which, by the way, is oh-so hard for me to do ...

***

A quote from the really awful "performance art" I witnessed tonight (following my friend R.'s beautiful reading):

"The next piece I was going to read is called 'Sleep,' but I have another piece I'm going to read instead. We'll do 'Sleep' another time. We can sleep when we die."



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