Yesterday was an okay day at work - no huge crisis of morale, but not much accomplished either. Yesterday evening was fun - a very nice gothy seamstress came over, looked at 2 jackets of mine, said there would be no problem copying them, and left with one of them and a bundle of fabric.

So whythehell did I plunge into the depths of depression at bedtime? There was no real reason. I mean, sure, I've still got the whole free-floating anxiety and angst about what the future holds for my job (those feelings are always there, squatting like an ogre in the back of my head, and I don't know what to feed it to make it go away), but that STILL shouldn't have caused me to break down that badly.

I'm not happy. I know that. And I also know that it's almost completely work-related. I think the biggest problem is that I'm scrambling around, trying to find a job within The Company, but I don't know if that's what I really want. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up, I just ended up here. And I can't take the time to figure out what I do want to do, because part of being a responsible adult is doing what needs to be done to pay the bills and support oneself and the household.

(and since I know my husband reads this, and will jump to the wrong conclusion) - I am in no way mad or resentful that I'm the one being the breadwinner of the household. In fact, I think that is rather cool. I just wish that I I could do that (making what we define as a comfortable living) via some career I find enjoyable.

sigh

Oh well. Off to meetings, off to fiddle with my C# project, and off to search the internal job website.
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