And I went down to the demonstration, To get my fair share of abuse

Because I'm well aware that I'm the one to blame for this mess, I try to make it a point not to complain about work or my job -- beyond the usual wouldn't-it-be-great-to-win-the-lottery-and-never-work-again talk (and anyone who says they'd keep working because they'd get bored or wouldn't want to disrupt their lives clearly doesn't deserve the lottery money). But tonight, as I sit at my desk at 8:07 pm eating a dinner of Cheetos and Famous Amos cookies from the vending machine, I'm really tempted to do some serious bitching.

This is my own fault too, of course. I'm the one who said yesterday, "I'm going to head home a little early today so I can get some stuff done in preparation for the weekend." When last night got blown all to hell and I was at work late, like an idiot I put it out there again today. "Today I'm definitely heading home by 5 so I can get everything done I wasn't able to do yesterday." Clearly this is just the bait fate likes to lunge for, clamp down on with its chitinous jaws, and yank away in the opposite direction.

And tomorrow will surely be no different. Because tomorrow I must leave at a reasonable hour. I don't really have a choice. I have to pick up a rental car before the place closes, and I have to throw all my snowboarding gear and weekend wear (unwashed as it will be since I obviously haven't made it to the laundromat before closing this week) into said rental car and drive to The Sac where I will be spending the night before proceeding to Tahoe for a weekend of winter. Obviously that means I will be late, unprepared, hit traffic and get no sleep.

But yay! Snowboarding!