Hell Week

Woooaaahh, working 8 days without a break. A kink in my roster, promptly solved when my boss simply decided to push my off day to next month.

Oh well.

And to make matters worse, a complete disregard for shifts. I can be working until 11pm one day, and expected to report bright and early the next day at 9am.

Sigh. My boss is so fabulous.

Today was especially trying, 12 hours straight. No time for lunch even. Pushed from one event to another.

Dealing with shitty PR people, reporting my first murder case (I'm surprised too, seeing how I've been here 1.5 years).

The murder one was especially bad. Not because there was blood of whatever, but it's the running up and down 8 flights of stairs in a dingy block in Queenway in this sweltering heat. Damn, but I stink.

Brain so dead at the moment.

And I've discovered a weird quirk: whenever I'm dead tired, instead of staying quiet in one corner, I become louder and talk nonstop.

Hmm. I guess my body just doesn't believe that I can really be this tired, and tries to overcompensate.

Sunday, please, please, please, come quickly.

So that I can finally rest my weary body.

Office Drama

The level of estrogen is running at an all time high in the office and it's driving me crazy.

Sure, it's nice to have female colleagues. All the giggles, laughs, and what not.

But when the hormones start going out of balance, and degenerates into a high-school scene, complete with huffy cold shoulders, name calling, gossiping behind each other's back, leaving each other out of the "clique" (I'm cringing as I type this)...

Jesus! In the name of all things holy! I wasn't even this bitchy back in secondary school! Or immature!

Seriously, at this point, I just want to roll my eyes. Or shrug my shoulders and not give a damn.

What happened to be being grown adults? And considering that I'm the YOUNGEST in the office, and yet have to deal with older people acting all teeny bopper-ish, I just want to bonk everyone on the head.

Maybe it's not a good idea to mix business with pleasure after all. Having to see someone day in day out, knowing that after-work politics spills over into work time... it's just too complicated.

Any suggestions?

A Blooming Miracle

It's the start of my 8-day break (shorter work week and all that) and I do something I haven't done in nearly a year.

I EXERCISED. Yes, I actually stepped into a gym, paid good money to do untold torture to my body.

I think a demon must have possessed me. Or maybe I'm just a teeny bit worried about the alcohol gut that is developing.

Damn you alcoholic colleagues!

Started relatively light, cos you know, don't want the heart that is clogged with fatty tissues to give out halfway. Scooped the gym and saw no cute guys, so there really was no incentive for an mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to go on.

20 minutes treadmill, 20 minutes weights training, 20 minutes spinning.

At the end of the hour, my body was shutting down and not responding to commands. Actually, by the first 20 minutes, I thought I was seeing stars already.

Sigh. I really do hate running. It's boring, it's tiring, it's painful, it's not therapeutic.

Why oh why did I subject myself to such torture?

Oh yeah, this is why.

I guess this would explain the need to work out. And it's only half of what was consumed on my birthday.

Sigh.