Voodooesque

That old familiar feeling. The Monday night feeling. You may know it as the Sunday night feeling. But its worse on Monday nights, because Tuesday morning is the morning I get up in the dark and go to work. I've been earning from my words one way or another since I was 15. I never found the line between my job and my identity. I don't want my job. I don't want myself. I'm sitting here trying to finish up stuff I should have emailed in this morning. But found 1001 excuses not to. Things keep happening to prevent me finishing things. I can't complete anything. I think I wish for them. My phone line down. Problems with work's server meaning I couldn't dial in. 'legitimate' distractions. I think I conjure them. I'm so afraid that I have that twisty pain in my chest. When I was 12 I couldn't finish a creative writing assignment. The teacher extended and extended my deadline. There were 'legitimate' distractions. The morning came when it was expected, but I hadn't been able to finish it. I stole my mothers cash card, bought a train ticket and ran away. I'm 34, I have my own credit card, but there's nowhere to go. I was caught, returned home, and still had to finish the assignment. When I finally tore it out of myself and handed it in, I got an A, but she wrote "as ever, I wish you'd written more." I want to quit my job. I think if I quit my job I'll get really sick again.

posted by dodo @ 8:03 pm