Sometimes, when you think your life sucks really bad, something happens to make it suck even worse.

While on the West Coast for business another work situation blew up. We spent days working to diffuse it. More long hours, etc.

Net-net, I landed in NYC late Friday night with orders (that I fought) to fly back out to the coast early Sunday morning to pinch hit and clean up the mess that someone else created. I stay Sunday/Monday, fly back to NYC on a redeye Monday night, land at 6AM, shower, change and am expected to report to work Tuesday.

Tuesday and Wednesday I will spend trying to get a grasp on my work, which has been laying dormant while trying to help everyone else, and then Thursday I am - you guessed it - flying back out to the coast for a Friday meeting. After that, I fly into Philly for a wedding Saturday afternoon.

This is the not the higher quality of life that I requested from my job a few months ago.

Somehow, both "quality" and "life" have completely disappeared. I'm not quite sure how that happened.

On the upshot, today I walked around NYC desparately seeking a new dress for the wedding next w/e and looked around at the shops with surprise. I hardly recognized anything; I had to remind myself that this is where I live. This is home.

I'm planning a big pity party for myself tonight after I pack. After that, I'm going to push myself to regain control of myself, to get through the week and hopefully emerge from this experience a better person.

Really what I would like to do is hide under my covers, shutting the world out, and cry.

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