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ode to the 9-5

every single time i think i am going to be able to revive my sad little blog, some new kind of shit gets in the way.

these days, 9.9999 times out of ten, it's work.

that said, even with the constant drama, handholding, stupidity, politics, etc. etc. etc., i can say with absolute certainty that i fucking love my job.

so there.

next to alone-with-cam time (something that is in very short supply these days, work commute notwithstanding), work is the place where i can be me: me with all of my sass, spunk, profanity, insecurity, self-righteousness and basic office skill competency. some days it's like junior high with grown-ass adults behaving like preteens, but that's fine because junior high, in some ways, was freaking awesome.

the only things i can't do are buy/rock a pair of louboutins in the office or put the kids in the attorney daycare because i don't want my [not-so-well compensated] staff to know that i could possibly afford such things. there is no reason to play up the salary divide, and i sometimes hate myself for even thinking about it.

if i put something on my phone that would help me keep this blog up to date, maybe that would work wonders. but then again, maybe i'd continue to use my phone to read overwrought fantasy fiction (thanks, cam and boss (note: two separate people), for putting me on that trail).

i've considered just letting the domain name lapse, but i'll probably renew it and feed this little thing a post or two every once in a while. we'll see. is the work-life balance a myth? or just something i can't bring myself to respect?



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