Don't They Make Something For That?

I am having one of those crazy days. Bi-Polar Days, if you want to be specific about it. I feel this is in order:

Dear JB,

I'm sorry I am a crazy person.

I am sorry for getting into a fight with you this morning, making up in the car on the ride to work, having a fight with you in the elevator on the way up to our floor, making up with you outside the security door before going into work and getting into another fight over bagels.

I am sorry about calling you to tell you how crazy I'm feeling, then getting into a fight with you about it. Then calling you an hour later to apologize, share a warm fuzzy moment, then spiral into a depression about how trapped I am in this job.

Sorry that you came into my office to tell me something tiny and got sucked into a ten minute discussion about panic, the industry, how old we're getting. Oh, and how I have lost the ability to be objective about my writing.

Did I mention the part where we got stuck in the hallway after lunch for another ten minutes while I started to cry and had to dodge as coworkers came and went. Sorry about that.

So then we have this nice moment like ten minutes ago and even though we're totally strapped for cash we're planning to go out to dinner. My goal for the day is to make it through the rest of work (i.e., the next hour) without any more emotional outbursts.

Love,
Jenn

PS, you don't have to read that outline. Ever.