God help me, but I sat through a three hour, live stage show of "The Sound of Music" last night. What. was. I. thinking. when. I. said. yes?
As usual it got me thinking.
Thinking about the company I was keeping - more than half the girls I came with don't give me the time of day at work... so why am I sitting here... voluntarily?!
Thinking about how often I see 'trendy' girls, and SpottyApple wearing tights, with boots, with a dress, with a teeny-tiny cardigan, in winter. Seriously, buy some friggen pants!
Thinking about John and wondering if like Captain Von-Trapp, someday before it's too late, he'll come to his senses - ask me to dance, realise he's in love with me and marry me instead of the bitch (this reality minus the seven children, preferably).
Thinking about possible mind-blowing outfits that I can wear to shake things up some with these stupid girls, next time we head out together... I mean, I'm way fatter, and less confident than the lot of them, but if they are going to hate me anyway - I may as well enjoy myself, and try to look good in the process.
Do you see the kind of disturbing thoughts that are induced by 'The Sound of Music'? Don't worry about Maria, worry about me!
In complete seriousness though, it's glaringly obvious that this work situation is not working (pardon the pun). I am not trying to be insane.. but this John stuff - it makes it really hard to have a normal working life... aside from being generally awkward - I just don't think I'm being an effective human being - I'm always so distracted. I'm not occupying life's moments, because my head is always elsewhere.
Aside from the political aspects of my current work environment, I actually love my job, and the variety I get exposed to. This is why it kills me to say, that I think the only real solution to all of this, is to leave. I can't imagine not being there anymore, not being involved in helping people - I just don't see another way out of this. I'm not going to make any rash decisions - but I am going to be keeping my eyes open and an ear to the ground.
Reality bites.
SB xx
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