Real World Mom Unplugged

Three hours until I have to get ready to go to work.  The anxiety has already begun.  I shouldn’t need to take a Xanax in order to get myself to work.  There’s definitely something wrong with this…

“What is the big, freaking deal?” I ask myself.

• The snotty, 20-something manager who has an attitude that I’d often like to shove up her ass?
• The rude, sometimes obnoxious, customers?
• The crappy hours?
• The fact that I usually have to walk (about one mile each way) to and from the place I don’t wanna go anyway?
• Knowing that I’ll be in pain when I get home tonight?  And then again when I wake up in the morning?
• And I’ll get to do it all over again tomorrow?

Unfortunately, I can’t pinpoint one, exact reason this job makes me so damned miserable.  If I could, maybe something could be done.  But, as the list of negatives grows, my hope of improving things enough to hang in there decreases.

I’ve continued looking for another job, sending out resumes, etc.  And, I had been hoping that already having a job would make it easier to find another one.  Silly me!  So far, most of what I’ve seen wouldn’t be any better than the one I’ve already got.

Only two hours and 40 minutes to go now…