I've Been In A Nasty Funk Of Late

which seems dumb when i analyze it. mostly i've been bummed about being so bored at work, not having enough to do. my twin is fond of telling me no matter what marketing job she's ever had, it's never kept her busy 40 hours a week. which is especially true in our industry, which i cannot disclose as i live in fear, i hate to say, of my blog being discovered.

yes, yes, yes--i get it. i break the cardinal blogging rule about talking about work. but i spend eight hours a day there and some times i do need to vent. having to work with cabbage patch head (cph) and mr. perfect, along with the emotional basket drama queen can make what would be an average day a total suckfest. and truly, the only people that get it are the adorable one, my twin, and her husband.

anyway, i feel like there is more i can do at work and i'm running low on projects and i'm bored. and i hate that. i hate spending my day feeling like i'm reading blogs and not being productive. because i like being busy and having stuff to do and feeling productive. i get that i'm a worker bee, a drone. and most days i'm okay with it. i've accepted that i just need to stay at my desk, mind my own business, not be nosy, and focus on my work. although i have to say that lately people have been sharing all kinds of interesting bits that pique my interest. i try not to be so fascinated with the power players, the scourges, etc., but usually my gossipy side gets the better of me. let's face it--work is dull. or, okay, my work is dull.

i haven't been to the pool in two weeks as it's been so blasted hot that that water isn't refreshing. supposedly, according to our local weather boobs, a cool front is coming through and the temperatures are going to be more moderate--highs in the 80s, lows in the 60s. because we're eventually moving to florida we are prepared for the warmer temperatures. but the truth about florida is, it's more humid and it's warmer longer. that's it. there were times when my grandfather, who lived in deerfield beach, would call and say, "you know, it's hotter where you are than it is here." true enough, but the humidity in south florida (hey, it's a swamp) is thick as pea soup. all i have to do is step off the plane in the sunshine state and i start sweating, no joke.

so, where was i? oh yes, the icky funk. i think i see my 38th birthday coming up and i'm going nowhere in my career. i'm overweight an out-of-shape (my fault, i do agree, and no i haven't done dick to resolve the situation, thanks), i feel ugly and disgusting and grosss. and i don't think that my anti-depressant is doing it's job. i'm gonna say something to my doctor when i go for my appointment in a couple of weeks.

i know i'm treading over old ground here, so forgive me for sounding like the broken record that i am. i have no witty comebacks, so smart solutions, or hopeful sayings to close with. because i know, deep down, i've got so much better than a million other people and sounding like a pathetic whiner doesn't help.

some chocolate would do me good though.