Danger: Impending Grumpsplosion!

This week has sucked more than almost any other week in my life.  Okay, that might be an exaggeration.  But it’s been pretty shitty.  It’s a combination of several different things, all melding together into one giant ball of suck.

First, work has gotten extremely busy and stressful for me.  Our dispatch guy quit and the company, in an effort to cut spending, decided not to hire a replacement.  Instead, they figured I could just add it on top of my workload.  Without increasing my pay.  This means I’m pretty much on the phone from the minute I get in until the minute I leave, talking to new people while having to resolve the problems from the person three phone calls before.  I tell you, it makes it hard to sneak in text messages to Strutter.

Second, Strutter is on vacation with her family this week.  Having spent two months together with only four days apart, this week has seemed SO long.  At least she calls me three or four times a day to check on her dogs…

Third, I’m pet-sitting.  Unlike normal pet-sitters, who swing by and drop food off, play with the pets for a bit, and go back home, I moved in.  Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with the dogs.  (The cat has pretty much avoided me.)  If not for them, I’d probably be in an even worse mood this week.  But it means that I haven’t spent the night in my own house in almost two weeks, and I’m getting homesick.  It also means that I’m being woken up every morning at 5:00am by the worst dog breath ever, and occasionally a drop of drool landing on my forehead.  (“Thanks, Taj.  No, really, I wanted to wake up this early.”)

Fourth, I quit smoking again last Saturday.  This is just adding to my already-critical grump-factor.

Fifth, I’ve gained six pounds in the past two weeks.  I have no doubt that it’s because I was introduced to Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream, and there’s no one to blame but myself, but blaming myself makes me grumpy.

Lastly, I’ve developed a slight health problem.  All right, it’s not slight at all.  It’s bad enough that it keeps me awake some nights, balled up in pain and unable to sleep at all before going in to work the next day.  I made an appointment with a specialist for the first available date, which is three weeks from now.  Until then, let’s just hope I don’t overdose on Tylenol PM, because that’s the only thing aside from liquor that knocks me out despite the pain.  (It’s not a terminal disease, nor is it an STD.  That’s all I’m going to say about it.)

So that’s about it…  I’m walking around stressed out over work, lonely, craving nicotine, tired, fat, and sometimes peppered with dog-spittle.  It’s not my fault if I kill someone before Saturday.  Right?

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