Swelltide.

Tired. Irritable. Grumpy.

Today, I worked with a few guys that I worked with years ago. Four or five years. They seemed excited to see me again. They seemed to remember who I was, and asked about people. Who is still with the company? Remember So-And-So? Who was that fat-tall-short-bald guy who used to work with you?

I don't know why, but this whole situation bothered me. I bothers me every time it happens. I never planned on working this crap job for so long. I never imagined that I would be one of those people stuck in some dead-end job because it pays the bills. I never imagined that I would be one of those people doing things I've lost interest in-- working a job that no longer serves me in any way. I don't make the kind of money I should. I haven't done anything new in years. There is nowhere for me to go. Every time I see someone I've worked with before, especially if it has been a long time, it just reminds me of how much of my life I have wasted.

Seven years. If I live to be seventy-- that is ten percent. It is shameful.

But, at this moment, what choice do I have?

Noise is bothering me. People are bothering me. I can't think of what to do with myself, and I get to wake up early tomorrow, to do something I don't like.

It is a typically American thing to do, I guess. Complain about our work. Complain about how unappreciated we are. How little of life makes sense. How nothing is fair. Cry. Bitch. Cry.

There are starving people in Africa who would do my job for less. I wish someone would. Hah.

Haven't slept well. Feeling like I could desperately use someone to talk to, but the girlfriend is working late tonight. Just me and the house. It is times like these that I wish I had it in me to waste the money on cable television. I could zone-out for a few hours and just go to bed.

Been one of those days. Anger. Irritability. Frustrated because I keep setting things down and not remembering where I've put them. Nothing going the way I want it to. Welcome, to hypomania.