March 2003, Kilkenny Ireland
Well, that's it. My stress level crept up on me, and whether I'm proud of myself or not, this has been the effect. I left my job at Zuni.
War in Iraq. Housemate not speaking to me, playing the victim, skulking about with her dour persistent silence. M_ playing on my mind again. And, the incipient stressfullness of the kitchen. A_ being a prick. Standing over, not letting me do my job. And the workload has been increasing lately. In the back of my mind, always, that nasty business with money. Promised €8, showed up €7 on the first check, modified to €7.10 after argument. Ugh. Feh.
G_ says M_ is not interested. She's not interested in anybody.
And this fucking computer cannot even play a song and keep the word processor open at the same time without skipping and gapping.
I want a cigarette.