Yesterday, I told the roomie that I needed sleep badly - work is crazy at the end of the month, and my paperwork was about to bend me over my desk and screw me. If I didn't get any sleep again, I would be fucked, so please be quiet...
At the time, I was exaggerating. Today, work actually bent me over and screwed me. If it was at all enjoyable, it would have been an orgasmic marathon. But it was not enjoyable. I turned my mountain of paperwork into a fortress of files on my desk to (unsuccessfully) hide behind. I got frazzled fast - I was putting my pens into my coffee mug full of coffee and got all droppy-handsish. At one point, I thought I knew what it must feel like to be autistic. There were six voices around me all going at once and something shiny on my desk distracting me. It all got so overwhelming, I just shook my head crazily and walked away without a word.
I thought I looked like a spaz, but one of my co-workers came up to me and asked "How do you stay so calm??"
"I'm on meds, " I responded, deadpan.
"Well, so am I, " she said, looking exasperated, "but they're not working like yours."
"I'm actually crying on the inside," I confided.
"Oh, ok - that's better. I knew it wasn't just me."
The kicker is it's still not quite the end of the month, and I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
*(I should clarify that I actually do love my job: the end-of-month madness makes me appreciate the next three weeks so much more.)
**(And wine. Wine is so much better when you work that hard for it.)
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