mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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Ugh. The days are too short. When I work the morning shift at work, 9am to 7pm, the space between getting home and going to bed is too tight to do much of anything besides eat dinner and collapse on the sofa. Oddly, my stupidly low energy levels don't affect my inability to fall asleep at a decent hour; I generally drag myself to bed at around midnight but rarely fall asleep before 1am. AAAAAAND because I get to sleep so late, I oversleep EVERY SINGLE DAY. Here's a fun secret: I haven't been to work on time since 2008. Nobody has noticed yet. I am not entirely sure if slipping so far below the radar is a good thing.
I got into a kind-of argument with my only two work friends today. We didn't actually exchange angry words but I did leave lunch in a hurry after telling them I was sick of feeling judged and scrutinized. We were talking about Matt's illness. Now, yes, his illness is his personal business, but my god, I have to vent, sometimes. My venting somehow turned into a discussion about how bipolar disorder, in the professional medical opinions of my fellow casino employees, is by and large just weakness and the inability to take responsibility for personal actions. Last week, I made the mistake of telling these two coworkers that Matt was moving out. Of course, he was "moved out" for about seven hours before WE decided that his parents' house was a shitty environment for him and he came back home. When I told my coworkers this, they both looked so... judgey. I guess I have to consider the sources, in this case-- a 37 year old single mom who has never had a relationship that lasted for more than a year (her ex fucked a couple of her employees for revenge after she dumped him-- classy, no?) and a 30 year old hermit who has been involved in an illicit relationship with a married 22 year old hoodrat for three years. God, I am being catty. Both of them apologized after my little display in the cafeteria, but I hate that they felt qualified to judge Matt. I judge Matt. I hate that I do, but I do, and I have thought that he was being, well, weak, but he is sick. SICK. I learned today that there is a mama bear in me. She got pissed and protective today. I need to either stop talking about my personal life with my coworkers or learn to take their critiques of my decisions with a grain of salt.

1:14 a.m. - 2009-03-12

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