This has been a hell of a ride. You regular customers have probably noticed the zig-zagging of the posts around here. One day it's all faeries, and dolls, then it's shell shocked marines.
These past months I've been going through an emotional hell zone. It may be that my depression has morphed into the double whammy of an anxiety, depression cocktail, with rage chaser.
Make mine a double.
The rage is what bothers me the most. Usually I can put up with morons, and assholes pretty well. I mean there's so many of them ya kind'a have to just to get along.
However lately that mechanism the prevents me, and everyone else from strangling these shits or heaving them out the window seems offline.
This is particularly not good for me since I work in an asshole rich environment. Radio stations are rather like the post office in that there's alot of tension, and repressed madness just under the surface.
People 'do' go "postal" at radio, and tv stations,...you just don't hear about it.
Anyway, any little bit of otherwise bearable bullshit that comes along now sends me into a Crack'n Whiskey rage,...which I'd defuse. Hey I'm an Angel'n all. It wouldn't do to be seen pulling some jerk's kidneys out through his nose.
Satisfying a task though this might be. It 'could' get me into a bit of trouble.
Oh sure the staff would applaud me, but still.
So all this being da case. I'm taking some bereavement leave. I think they gives ya a week off for that sort of thing. All that care giving hell, and the slow death jamboree in my family is finally backing up on me.
Losing my house at the same time didn't help.
It's exactly a year since all that theatre went down. So I guess my emotional clock is ringing like a three alarm fire. Yeah I hears ya, I gets the message.
Well I'm in my new cute digs, and I needs be left the bleep alone in it for a bit. I'll speak with my station manager, and shop steward today.
The alternative is ending up on the front page of the "New York Post" with some asshole's liver hanging from my teeth.
Stay tuned.
4 comments:
Sorry to here that sid, I have been there I was a Labour councilor and one day I just lost it with one the conservatives in the members room I grabed him around the throat and pushed him down I had my hands around is neck calling him all the names under the sun and banging is head in to the carpet ,my fellow councilors had to drag me of him ,the leadership did a cover up. so it did not get in the press they put it down to me not being well ! and the staff at the town hall use to treat me with kidd gloves after that, I wounder why!
Your radio station kinda sounds like prison....there were times I felt like clubbing some poor bastard upside the head and walking away chuckling.
Come to think of it, I don't need to be in prison to get that feeling!
Mr. Chips
Yep, sounds like it's time for a vacation. It seems to me you've needed a breather for quite some while. I hope you'll have plenty of opportunity to mellow out, chill, and do whatever relaxes you most. If I could send you cute queer Johan Palm lookalike to satisfy your every need, I'd do it. Imagine the therapeutic benefits!
Hell yeah ! very therapeutic I so wana see to that kids needs woof!
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