I'm still having a tough time getting up in the morning and going to work at Clinical Day Program. Sometimes, I just want to quit. I really want to quit. I like working at the Anderson Free Clinic. I like JustFaith. I likemost everything else about being here. Except working at the CDP. Which is sad, because that composes the majority of my time... I don't like it. I'm not cut out for this CDP shaped hole. I cry myself to sleep because I'm so upset... I keep taking these breaks, thinking that they will rejuvenate me and I won't hate working so much, but I dread coming home and returning to work. I've got a weekend at Myrtle Beach in a little over a week, and two weeks after that, I've got the FVM spring retreat. The weekend after that is the CDP spring break as well as Holy Week. The weekend after that is our JustFaith closing retreat. I've got a million retreats. More, if I want them. But they aren't making things any better. Sometimes, I wonder if it will get better at all. Maybe I'll snap out of it. If not, I don't know what to do. I can't live another five months like this. I just can't! I'll go mad.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Millennials

I'm going to make some of you feel a little old -- I just used a fax machine for the first time in my life. I get a buzz of irritation when people request faxes. When I needed stuff faxed in college, I would email it to my Dadders and ask him to fax it. I don't understand why everything can't be done digitally. Waste of paper. Once, KSwiss needed work done on his car, they emailed him the paperwork, he signed it on his tablet (literally, signed his name with his finger) and emailed it back to them. This is the way it should be. Of course, the next generation will probably think I'm old for having used an actual phone instead of an implant in my head or something. Of course, I think it's amusing when people still have landlines. My parents don't even have a landline anymore. And of course, some people pride themselves on their lack of modern communication technology. And the Millennials say: What's that? You can't play any song you could possibly want...
Continue reading...
"No, it's not different. You are 'the other woman,'" I told her as gentle as I knew how for such a situation. "No, I'm not," she trembled. "He's mine. He loves me. She's the other woman!" "He was yours, Lisa." I paused. I looked at her with pity. Her mascara and tears made black rivers down her face. I handed her the box of Kleenex. "I can't stop you," I said. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She gripped it tightly, but I pulled it away and walked out of the room. That was two weeks ago. She still calls him. She's obsessed. There's not much I can do. She was doing fine without him, then she heard he had a new girlfriend. When she called him to chat, I could tell he was surprised. Their breakup wasn't an easy on, but it was inevitable. They're just not the same people they were. She's incredibly not well read. He needs someone who can stimulate his mind with interes...
Continue reading...