A hospital? What is it?

It's a big building with patients, but that's not important right now.

Thanks for the sympathy for my whining. I do realize that there are a lot of people who live with constant health problems and other major issues every day, and I'm not trying to wear the martyr badge - I'm just tired. I'm just Really Fucking Tired. I also know people who skate through life untouched by any more difficulty than the occasional bad hair day, broken nail or flat tire - and yes, I know them well enough to know they are not Hiding Secret Pain - at least none bigger than that guy who dumped them in their junior year or losing grandma, or any of the normal life shit that happens to everybody. And at times like this, I really can't stand those bitches. I'm paying MY dues and THEIRS. And half the Bush family's too. And that thought REALLY pisses me off.

I like my job, it's challenging. I hate my job, It's Really Goddamn Challenging on a regular basis, and this is a bad, crazy week. I'm tired. I'm envying people who Take Vacations and go somewhere pretty and take pictures and drink wine. I won't get a vacation this year - I may take days off, but trust me, I won't enjoy them. I'm thinking that if this week's major crunch project is resolved tomorrow I'm taking off Thursday, and Fuck the Thursday Meeting. My father's in the hospital, I'd kinda like to address that at some point.

I'm envying people who have jobs in yarn shops or bookstores, dealing with soft, gentle things like that, instead of plats and drainage and homeowners association documents and engineers who don't return phone calls and problems that aren't clearly articulated the first three times I ask and turn out to be totally different than I was told, and deadlines, deadlines, deadlines - a hundred unrelated loose ends that are all a critical path to Something That Allows Us to Eat. It's interesting work but damn, it fries my brain. I better get a damn good bonus in June, because I am earning that sucker.

And then I come home and my mother calls with the latest news about my father and sucks the last whimpering brain cell that was still clinging to the inside of my skull right out my ear and into the phone. Any day now my sanity will go with it.

And I had a stress-triggered allergy attack at 3 a.m. So I've been awake since 3 a.m. After I talk to my mother tonight I'm going to bed. God Bless Benadryl, may you work your sleepy non-sniffly magic.