Mmmmm... Anxiety. Fuckers. September 15, 2004 - 1:15 a.m.

I'm sitting here crying because I have to work tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday.

How fucking ridiculous is that?

That I'm crying about it... not that I have to work.

And it's not like I'm crumpled over in a heap, sobbing my wittle heart out. It's more like the tears just stream. And I can't stop them. And then there's this feeling, in the pit of my stomach and in my throat.. and it won't go away. And I feel sick. Physically sick. Like I want to hurl. And I want to punch something. Break something. Watch something smash, see it shatter and explode.

But because I know acting on that can lead to bad things that I said I would never do... I sit very still and motionless until the feeling passes. Or I sit here and keep my hands busy by typing.

I guess part of it is that I feel like I'm being thrown into something without being able to consider anything. I'm not given any details about what the work is. I'm not told what times, just 'tomorrow'. No 'morning' or 'evening'. Just 'tomorrow'. I don't know where I'll be working or what I'll be doing.

How the fuck am I expected to make a decision on something when I'm not given any fucking details?!

I ask about details, and all I get back in return are vague answers and 'I don't know's. Not to mention guilt and condescension. The ever looming thoughts and implications that I need to work whenever I have the chance because I'm a useless bum who does nothing else.

And maybe I don't have a right to be picky. Maybe I should be happy for any chance to work. But there's some confidence and security to be found in solid facts and details about the work itself. When I'm going in completely blind like this, I don't know what to expect and can only think of the worst.

Hence more sickness and tears.

Feeling guilty about not working is one thing, but not knowing what to expect is another.

It's all bullshit.

I hate this. I fucking hate being called while I'm enjoying a nice dinner and a good TV show, only to be pressured and guilted into giving a yes or no answer before I have any details.

The details matter, god dammit!

I feel like I'm not allowed to say no. Like I'm beneath the option of considering whether I want to do this. I should be able to decide what I'm getting into, despite my current position on the social ladder.

And as I'm writing this, my mom calls to apologize if she was 'short' with me. She explained that she's not trying to guilt me into anything. And more than likely, she's not. More than likely, it's my own permanent guilt that gets cued on certain words or phrases. Or shows up when I'm wanting to find excuses to get out of something.

And I explained to her that I understand it isn't her fault. That I did feel as though she was pressuring me, but I also understand that she wasn't given much time to get an answer. And it's not her fault that she wasn't provided with the full and necessary information.

And though she's the one that presented the question about work to me, it's ultimately coming from work itself. And they're the one's that are lacking verbal skills. Mostly I just get frustrated with my mom in general, but feeling like she's being passive aggressive and criticizing me doesn't help.

Having her say sorry for that, helps. A small difference in feelings, but a difference nonetheless.

Normal guilt and being fully pissed off at having to have an answer before knowing all the details - yeah, that's all still happening.

I'm still angsty and using a lot of cuss words. Dammit.

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