I used to be good at the kind of tests they gave in school. Multiple-choice, true-false, short answer, and essay questions, I did okay. Admittedly, Algebra and Trig kicked my butt, but in my overall school career, I won more than I lost.
Now I am solidly in the middle of my life, if I live as long as my grandparents did, and I feel like I am failing the Test of Life. The real thing, the test that matters. I'm coasting, sliding along doing the least amount possible, just a big, fat waste of oxygen. Part of my general feeling of ugh today may be that I have my new glasses and these bifocals are freaking me out (very different) and I have a headache that is rapidly reaching mammoth proportions.
It was another boring, horrid day at work where I didn't do enough to justify my salary and left feeling angry and frustrated. I've got NO leadership there right now and they want me to figure out what to do, and you know what? I'm not very good at it. I'm not good at making up processes and acting without guidance. I am one of nature's drones. Give me a clearly defined job and get the hell out of my way and I'll knock your socks off. But if you don't know what you want me to do, or what the final outcome should look like, I just thrash around feeling mad and stupid at the same time. It may be time to dust off the old resume.
The taxes are not done. Every time I think about them, I get a pain deep behind my eyes. I finally mentioned them to Thomas in the most polite manner possible, just last night. Really! I said that we should probably do the taxes soon. His answer? "Is that something I have to do RIGHT NOW?" So I leaped out of my chair and kicked him in the teeth. I so wish, but in my determination to be reasonable, I just said that I thought it should be done sooner rather than later. Fucking Taxes. If my marriage ever breaks up, it will be about housework or taxes.
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