Realities of being me

Once upon a time, I was an absolute work nazi.  The real reason for this is that work was the only place I was safe from my repellent siblings.

Eventually, it turned out that I was not at all safe at work, around about the time I have previously referenced when one of the utilities companies decided to steal information rather than simply allowing me to inform them how to deal with their data issues.

Nobody is likely to do any big career favours for me, and I am unlikely to get anywhere via employment.

It then turned out that my repellent siblings even used my interest in work against me, at which point I was broken hearted for several years, especially when it also turned out that they were lazy and corrupt.

I didn’t really care about anything else until I met Wolfe, wanted to do the book, could not get anybody to discuss it with me and realised that everything I do is a waste of time, so unless I want to do it for nothing, it isn’t worth doing.

And here we are.  I am tired, very lonely, sick of coming last and apparently useless.

Now I am in a position where I am not particularly great at my job, I have seemingly limitless lust (seriously, I do not remember actually throbbing all day before) for some poor dude I barely know, and I am extremely frightened.

I don’t really like being in this position, and I think I deserve better.  Life ought to be a lot nicer, all things considered. I need to do something about that.



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