Hot tramp, I love you so.

The intense mental preparation that went into my eight-minute meeting with Ex-Mrs. Wonderful evidently hooked up with my job stress. They made sweet, sweet love and procreated. And now I am exhausted, burned out and near tears.

I hate it when my stress and neuroses get it on and don’t use protection. When will people learn?

I have a headache in the base of my skull. And I literally considered screaming at a coworker this afternoon. She totally deserved it. But this is not who I am.

At least I weighed the pros and cons of the screaming. I determined that I couldn’t do it without crying. Since my only cry is The Ugly Cry, this was not an option. I think I lose my ability to be an effective communicator when I’m blotchy and covered in mucus.

I need to be kind to myself and take a brief respite to rally the mental troops. I know this. But I’m so upset about being burned out that I can’t even accept it. A heavy workload and an uncomfortable social situation aren’t kryptonite – I should be fine. But I’m not.

I need a break. I need to sleep. I can’t respond to any more demands right now.

I’m going to be naughty. I’m leaving work 15 whole minutes early to go to the bookstore. David Bowie wrote “Rebel, rebel” about me. Obviously.

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