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notes from an alcoholic
swing
amw
When i went on vacation i handed over my project management role to a colleague. He has done fairly well at it insofar as he has made the team feel okay, and despite some small hiccups the world hasn't blown up. I don't agree with his process, but it's not my ball any more so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It's been nice for me to come back into the office and not have to worry about inter-team and inter-departmental politics (i can't believe that's a thing in a company of less than 30 employees...) but yesterday some stupid shit came to a head and i got hit by passive-aggressive strikes from two sides over some work that literally last week i had had completely constructive and congenial conversations about. I guess over the break the people involved suddenly decided everything was terrible and decided to tell me that via two levels of indirection. Two levels of indirection in a company that has literally one level of management that is the CEO. It would be funny if it was a Canadian highschool melodrama, except it's a business with a couple million in revenue and an average age of the involved parties all over 30. Jesus fucking Christ.

But, you know, i am done with trying to fight battles when one side has whipped themselves up into a religious fervor. I rolled back all the stuff they had agreed to and supported me in building 7 days ago (before changing their minds 2 days ago, caught up in an Easter Egg comedown). I can't be fucked. Meanwhile the CEO still wants to promote me to management. I have so little interest in it any more. I mean, i never really had interest in it, other than i do want to help the guys on my team become better. But man, i am so over this fucking job. It's a good job. In general, barring the occasional inexplicable passive-aggressiveness, the work environment is extremely easy-going and the work itself is not at all demanding compared to many of the other places i've worked. But, fuck it. I think i am just over all jobs. I cannot get enthused. My weeknight evenings are all pissed away in a blur of heavy drinking, and on the weekend it's all i can do to escape it - and any other social interaction - just to try to feel like i am free again.

This weekend i turned off my phone on Saturday. I went out clubbing on Monday afternoon with just a wallet and pen and paper in my pocket. Fuck smartphones. Fuck people trying to reach me. Fuck knowing what time it was or, indeed, what day it was. I upset one of my friends here who had spent half the weekend trying to get in touch, but from my perspective i finally had a couple days where i felt free again. Whether i was marathoning Halt and Catch Fire or getting ridiculously drunk dancing to Acid Pauli and the rest of the Kater gang or nursing a hangover with Tony Bourdain, at least i had a day or two of not having to worry about anything, not having to answer to anyone. Those moments are fleeting as hell in my life, and honestly they are the only moments worth living for. If i'm not free i am working for the man, and i work way too hard for the man to get that tiny sliver of freedom. I never get it on a two day weekend, because Saturday i am nursing a hangover from how shitty Friday was and Sunday i am dreading the fact i have to go back to work Monday. Jesus, i've only been back in the office 2 days this week and the first day was a shit-storm of stupid drama, and today i was edgy and hungover from trying to forget the drama of the previous night. And now i've been home 2 hours and i am already one bottle of sekt down. Because, fuck it all.
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