Get me outta here

I'm just so sick of everything at the moment . . . I'm sick of kids who are rude and belligerent and spoil things for the rest of the class . . . I'm sick of getting angry with these kids and feeling like I can't contain the frustration for one more minute . . . I'm sick of people snarking and bitching and never offering any support . . . I'm sick of being the strong one who holds up her end of the relationship and giving it everything I've got even when S is unable to offer any support or reassurance . . . I'm sick of trying to manage people so that they don't go all political on me . . . I'm sick of having to diet . . . I'm sick of my unsealable house with its bogong moths and flies and mosquitos and SO much dust . . . I'm sick of the house altogether, with its tiny grubby windows and dingy carpet and no inspiration whatsoever . . . I'm just sick of the endless drudgery of everything.

I know I should be grateful for all the things I've got . . . these are after all the whingings of someone who does have a steady job and money for food and shelter and spending, and so forth . . . but right now I'm even sick of feeling guilty about what I've got and the need to be grateful for it. Feeling like crap when you have three degrees and are living above the breadline is still feeling like crap.



I just want a proper night's sleep where I drop off without spending an hour fretting, and don't get woken by bloody flappy bogong moths every half an hour, and I want to wake up to S hugging me and telling me it's going to be alright. I'm not likely to get any of these things any time soon.