Anger management?

So, I made a mistake yesterday at work, or, actually a few mistakes when setting up a database.

As a result, I've been self-flagellating to make amends all day.

The customer isn't furious, but they do want some special consideration.  A small upload or training freebie, which we'll likely give them.  At no real financial loss to anyone here.

I'm more annoyed that I have to admit fault to a running string of minor player colleagues.  The one who is technically most affected shrugged and said, "Shit happens".  The ones in the margins have been the most frustrating.

I hate being wrong.

I have low self esteem to begin with, so have to be further self-effacing to my already damaged psyche just makes me mad.

Oh well.  At least I love myself enough to mind.

But today deserves a do-over.

However, I'm about 2 hours away from stepping on a digital scale and letting the readout determine my level of worth for the week.  No kidding.

I am feeling very frustrated for a variety of reasons, and I'm trying hard not to let that anger get the better of me.  It's not working.  It just isn't.

It doesn't help that I overdid the caffeine today and I feel like my nerves are covered in fire ants.

It doesn't help that I haven't been exercising and that I cannot seem to get enough sleep.

And that my hair is manky, and I'm sick of explaining to everyone what's up with the scarves.

And that my life seems to be lacking in the "fun" department - because as it turns out, getting enough play in your day is a lot of damn work.

Today I noticed 4 signs in the breakroom - they looked like propaganda - and all were talking about internet security - Lost Laptops Sink Ships, Are you proud of what's in your browser history?  It's beyond weird.  And it doesn't make me feel warm and/or fuzzy. It feels like Comrade ees Vatchink You, Moose and Skvirrel.

Also, I got asked to volunteer for a company-wide bake sale for our pet charity, ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease).  Glad to do it - only I learned my cake will be sold by the slice, which ruins the appeal of making a cake.  Yes, I know I'm being dumb, but from a vanity standpoint, I'd love to know what my cake is worth to someone in toto.  I don't care to see it inexpertly hacked apart and sold to the fumbling masses, who won't be able to appreciate how special it really is.

And isn't that the underlying theme?  No one appreciates my specialness.  I'm constantly looking for feedback, or the laugh, or a gold star, or a hug for my troubles.

I'm looking for approval in all the wrong ways, when really - I need to love myself and approve of myself.

Who gives a damn if I lose a pound this week or make the best cake or look good in scarves if I don't believe in myself to begin with?

And why do I beat myself up about one miscued database when I have 98% of my contracts go off without a hitch?  And why do I let others get to me - especially when I don't give a damn about what those people bring to the table anyway.

I don't know.  I do know that I am beat up, and that after I go weigh in and meet with my group, I'll go home, throw together a salad and get ready to do it again for another day.

So, yeah.

But sadly, I'm not feeling confident or good or funny.   Just scabby and rotting and foolish.  But a little thinner than last week.  At least that.

This too shall pass.


I know that all of this is difficult and draining and no fun, but I had to laugh, kiddo. You're one neurotic contract negotiation away from early-onset Les Mooreism. Remember, you're better than that! He had to marry cancer - you had cancer thrust upon you! And I'll bet your goatee is way cuter than his. ;)