Wednesday, April 14

Today, I wanted to go HOME.

I've calmed down.  Immensely.  But for a fraction of an hour, I wanted to pack my life back up and hitch the wagon West.  While watching out for dysentery, fording the river successfully, and keeping Native casualties to a minimum.


It started with my taxes.  Yes, I realize it's April 14th, thank you.  Whatever.  We'll file an extension, no problem.  That's not the issue.


The issue was that the temp agency I used to find my current job failed to notice that I want to claim "Zero" on my forms, and not to pay attention to my x-ing of all boxes because I had no idea what I was doing!  So, when my mom panicked because Virginia state taxes weren't taken out for 3 months, she had every right.  Then of course, I panicked.  Am I going to get fucked?  Dollars down the drain!  Virginia sues Oregonian for infiltration and extra payment of taxes!  Instant panic cues.  My mom told me the estimate she had me at, "but now she's not so sure."  I see that dollar sign right down the drain.


And of course, it doesn't help that I had income in Oregon also.  So we get to play the game of "I have income from 2 states."  Oh please, let's get popcorn and watch this unfold.


I naturally want to write the State of Oregon, the State of Virginia, and President O, himself, because I should totally be cut some slack.  I move across the freakin' country to a bigger job pool.  'Xcuuuuuse me for wanting to earn more money that unemployment can provide.


This was my starting point.


Then on my commute home, I hit traffic.  Stand still traffic.  And you know how the 2 right lanes are sluggish, and the 2 left lanes are hauling balls, and you just can't find a space to throw your little Asian car into the mix without getting pummeled between Big Rigs?  Totally today.  I burned out, narrowly missed clipping my nose into the back of a Ford truck, while weaving beside an 18-wheel who wasn't feeling generous with the dotted line.  Phew.  Right then, I hated Virginia.  At that exact moment I questioned why the hell was I out here.  Is this worth it?  What if I just pack my life up and go couch-hop back in Oregon?  I know plenty of people to make that work.  And all these people we know who get stationed in Washington, why not us?  Well because the Navy didn't feel it necessary to give Mr. Wookie his No. 1 aircraft, that's why.  Assholes.


But I've cooled down.  I desperately needed a beverage during this time frame.  In a travel mug, none-the-less, so I wouldn't be arrested for an open container.  I'm above the law, my dad's the Sheriff.


And the frosting on the cake of today: I got a papercut.  From a Splenda packet.


Happy Wednesday everyone.  May your day be one panic attack less.  Or at least, may your cabinet be fully stocked for your relaxation method of choice.  I need some tonic.


Edited to add:


So I'm still here.  A lot less fuming.  Plus fed, which I think was part of the issue.  Nothing makes me happier than leftover Costco pizza.  That is unless it's the Sheriff and I making a run to Costco where they actually box your items for you.  Two slices and a glass of Lipton Cold Brew iced tea helped me ease my destructive thoughts.


I'm pretty sure all I needed was/is a hug.  But alas that's not going to happen.  Mr. Wookie has another night flight and is scheduled to be home very late.  So there you have it, my closest option: FAIL.  And I'm delaying opening the bottle of red wine because I know how I love that second glass of wine...when all I want to do is go to sleep.  Which, yes, 2 glasses of wine will do that...but then I'll want to stay up until Mr. Wookie comes home, which is great if I didn't have to be at work tomorrow, but then I'll be cranky at work tomorrow, which'll only be compounded on my drive home...and then, and then, and then.  But I do have to be at work tomorrow.  Because this week must go on and punish me. so I think that I'll hodge-podge around a bit more, then crawl into bed and read my Real Simple (yes, Middle Sister, I was so jealous of your subscription, I got my own!).  Because going to bed after 8pm is totally acceptable at 26.


Good night.

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