Annoyed
I'm annoyed with work again. Actually, I don't think my annoyance level ever really goes away. It just gets covered up by other things sometimes, so I don't notice it as much. That, and I truly think most of the time, the eight hours that I spend in my office everyday send me into a numbing, yet somewhat functioning coma, enabling me to do my job, but not allowing me to notice how much I'd rather be elsewhere. Those are the good days.

I'm snapping at people at the office. Well, not really snapping, but just not offering more than incomplete sentences or cordial pleasantries of pointless conversation. Mostly I'm just not talking to people. I'm hiding in my office, only venturing out for the necessities: bathroom and food, in no particular order.

I'm doing my stuff, but only what I need to do to say I've done it. I'm overwhelmed with projects that need my attention, but I'm more overwhelmed with the intense desire to not do any of them.

It's the weather. It's the shorter days filled mostly with no sunlight. It's the traffic that seems increasingly thicker and slower everyday. It's the sadness of looming holidays I will again have to endure through a thick shroud of grief, masking what used to be fun times that I looked forward to. It's the colder temperatures. It's the daily reminders that I am not doing what I want to be doing with myself, even though most aspects of my life suprisingly have me very happy these days. It's my job. It's fish served for lunch when I swore off fish after getting sick from it a few months ago. It's people that I miss. It's things that don't make sense.

Annoyed.

C.T.