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change in the tides

i would like to summon up the rage of weeks and months gone by, wrap it into a neat little package, and carry that goddamned fiery package with me everywhere i go to serve as a reminder that i am more than this sad sack pining doormat that i have become.

i mean, seriously. what the hell is wrong with me?

work still sucks. people still suck. recent departmental fuck-ups have made me jittery and wary of every sidelong glance. my project ate much of the holiday weekend and will most likely consume most of the upcoming one. work-bff only talks to me when he wants something.

(cam accused me of overthinking today. um. we've been married since 1998 and you're just now realizing i do this?)

the ex-boss dodged important questions, failed to provide support as a boss when he could, and as a friend when he couldn't--never even acknowledged the wrongness of the situation he left me in. wake up. it's not MY fault. i didn't bring this on myself. i have NOTHING to feel bad about (at least as far as he is concerned). i can think pleasant thoughts of his time at the firm--revisionist history at its finest--and permit the mentor his somewhat fond musings (because the ex-boss didn't rip his heart out and stomp on it) without falling into the trap of pretending that nothing happened and we're just two old workaholic friends who are having a hard time connecting.

i will never know the truth--his truth--about what happened. i despair that i will never get out of this hole of workworkandmorework, and maybe it's just my fate to be yoked to an organization such as this one. but surely i don't need to be such a bloody swooning victim about it? where is my rage? i like myself so much more when i'm angry.

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