This weekend i decided not to go clubbing on Sunday because i had an interview Monday afternoon and i didn't want to be hungover or tired. Bad move. Sure, all weekend i did "relaxing" things like clean the house, watch movies, play video games, order in... But none of that really makes me happy deep in my heart. It gets my mind off things, it entertains me, i feel some accomplishment... But without the chance to just completely give myself over to music and dance, the next Monday i am just spiralling deeper. If i don't party, i will fucking break.
Of course there are particular frustrations happening at work that have been worse the last week or so than in previous weeks. But, honestly, it's the same shit. I feel bad when i can't help my guys. I expect too much from other teams. Same shit everywhere. Same shit all the time. I just care too much. I do it to myself because i'm not a person who can just shrug off dysfunctional processes and a poor quality product. I feel obligated to not be mediocre because, you know, THEY ARE FUCKING PAYING ME MONEY. I don't know how other people live with themselves. Oh, wait, i do. They just don't care.
But you know, they also are the guys who have up-to-date passports and drivers' licenses and go to the specialist when a doctor refers them and have actual furniture in their house because they are not so fucking stressed out and exhausted that the only thing they can manage when they get home is to open a beer, slap some cheese on a piece of bread and then pass out.
Fuck my life.