I had a bad day.  The thing about being happy is I notice the things that are bull shit in my life with more clarity.  The way I’m perceived at work?  Total bull shit.

When a woman stands at my desk and actually screams at me… it’s not something I can ignore.  I can bottle up my feelings like it’s an Olympic sport.  But, you test my temper, I can’t ignore that.  I can’t ignore that this is the closest I have ever come to throwing down my keys and walking out of that office.  That’s saying something when my best friends have been trying to talk me into leaving this job for a year now.  The day I start losing my temper?  Over a job?  I’m done.  There isn’t enough energy in this life to justify that.  Luck (or a curse, and I guess we won’t know till this job is said and done) brought a phone call at the exact instant that I was about to lose it on her.  So today, I still have a job. 

But today I spent the last three hours of work on edge, with a red face and quaking hands.  What could have been a weekend lost has started off correctly.  Two weeks ago I got a blow at work that I’m still sitting on.  For the first time since the break up I have kept a secret from every single person that I know.  Do I have to explain how monumental that is for me?  That I haven’t told a soul on this earth what happened to me two weeks ago?  I haven’t kept a single thing a secret since I moved back here.  I post personal things on the internet, heaven knows I’m not a secret keeper.

I came home and napped with both my kitties by my side.  I drank bloody marys and then primped with my sister.  I went to a bar where my friends were playing and had conversation and story telling with my sis and her new boyfriend.  I met up with my best friend and got flowers from a boy.  I chugged a Long Island Iced Tea and heard the perfect songs in the car.  I came home and blogged with my eyes closed while intoxicated.  I let go of what happened at work, and had a great night.

I wish there wasn’t this duality in my life.  I wish the hours I spend at work every week weren’t a complete 180 from what I am in my off time.  If you could see me at work you wouldn’t recognize me.  You don’t believe me when I say I’m not friendly, that I’m at times a meanie.  If you saw me at work, you would believe.  It’s the way they perceive me, and maybe that makes it true.

I need to decide how much this bothers me.  Am I going to allow myself to be a completely different person at work?  Am I going to allow myself to be stand offish because I know that I do it to protect myself?  Is the person I am at work really me, because if she’s not then this has to stop.

I don’t know how to begin to figure all of this out, but I can’t ignore it.