Thanks For The Support And AllThe stress I'm feeling lately is absolutely through-the-roof awful. I wake up thinking about this non-problem, and I spend all day in states ranging from disgust to contempt to exasperation, depending on how the mood strikes me in the moment.
I'm not good company.
Naturally, my back is all wrenched up and feels just about ready to torque my spine into two days of lying on the hardwood floor hopped up on Vicodin. I'm obviously internalizing all this bullshit, and instead of processing what's going on in a reasonable way, I end up with lower back pain.
The emotion I'm really having the hardest time with is the utter anger that underlies any and every thought that has crossed my mind over the past week or so. I'm seething, and I don't like it. The echo chamber of Directors and Veeps have been reinforcing their handwringing and bedwetting with assumptions and lies, and this problem isn't going away. Frankly, I'm doing the same thing with my anger. It's stewing in irrationality (or, really, the irrational desire for rationality lost), and continuing to gin up data points both real and fantastic in order to spiral higher and more out of control.
On Thursday, my program was very quietly "shut down" by a Veep, which is an essentially meaningless edict because the "shutdown" doesn't really change things but for one or two people internally who have enough influence to get an exception for the progress on their transaction to continue. In other words, we're "shut down," except for the stuff we currently have going and the stuff that's already happened, which is really all we're working on at present anyway.
There are two types of fantasies or scenarios I keep playing out in my head. The first is that I really wish they
would stick us with the full force of this supposed "shut down" (and no, I will not discontinue my use of ironic quotes regarding this "penalty"). I checked my email three or four times this weekend, with the masochistic hope that I'd be denied network access. I arrived at the facility this morning with a prayer that my badge wouldn't let me in the doors. I wanted boxes at my desk and an order to pack up and vacate. At least then this wouldn't be ambiguous. At least then my anger would be justified.
The other type of fantasy? It's the burned bridge. There's a zero percent chance I'm going to do anything but keep my head down and shut the fuck up until my boss gets here for the meeting on this topic this week, but there's a small (alright, big) part of me that wants to pour gasoline on the situation and leave my Zippo to do the rest of the dirty work.
I won't do it, or course. I'm angry, but I'm not stupid. I just don't want to be here while this shakes out. I'm sitting at my desk and patiently waiting for all this to shake out, which is all I can do. Well, besides looking for another job, which is on the agenda. Until I get resolution on this I'll be working in limbo, fighting off lower back pain, and trying not to get my anger whipped up to a tangibly visible froth.
Good fucking luck to me this week.