rock bottom

Treed.
Friday. Friday. Friday.

Too late. No time. I’m screwed.

The presentation I slaved over into the wee hours last night went off without a hitch, and even garnered positive feedback. My laptop is back with a shiny new install of WinXP, and is running like gangbusters (whatever that means). You’d think I’d be happy, relieved, maybe even a bit relaxed. Shit no I’m not. I am literally feeling crushed tonight. I’m freaking out. I did my first dry-run of my big conference presentation tonight, me and the stopwatch on my cellphone, in front of the mirror – an open notebook to jot down thoughts as I ran through my material in “presenter mode” for the first time. Oh, it went OK for the stuff I knew it’d go OK for; and it bit for the stuff I was a little unsure about. The worst part? The damn thing only took me ~30min to get through. That’s a disaster folks, a disaster. I am will be up in front of these people for 70min, and expected to talk for at least 60 of those. I have a problem, and the only way to solve it is to pad my material and get a better grip on what I’m talking about. But right now I just can’t help but see a persistent vision of sand running out of an hourglass in my head… time’s a wastin’. I have tomorrow, and the weekend, and perhaps some of Monday… and then it’s go-time. I’m frustrated, I’m worried, I’m nervous, and to be honest I just want to run away and hide until it’s over.

And I just don’t want to work right now. I want my night back. I want to sit here and watch TV with my wife, and I’m going to. I don’t care. I mean, I care more than anything right now – but I just don’t care. Sometimes we can get to laughing about something and I almost forget my misery. Whatever, I’m tired of waking and working being synonymous. I’m letting the little things slide, but they are making me big unhappy. I hate that I’ve forgot to take out the trash the past three Thursdays, and have had to jump out of bed at the sound of the trucks on Friday morning to try and get it to the curb in time. I hate that I’ve started letting the lawn get longer before I mow it, and that the night’s dinner dishes now linger in the sink until just before the next night’s meal. The little chores I took pride in not three weeks ago are all screwed up. Whatever… I’ll make it up this weekend, I’ll do something, I’ll do whatever. I’ll make something happen. I don’t even want to write about it…

Good night.


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