As pathetic as this is going to sound, I have to admit it: I'm really glad to be back at work!
I've just come of of 17 days in a row off, and I thought I was going to go crazy. How much sleep, pizza, and porn can one man consume? By day #9 I had turned into Jabba The Hutt and had completely grossed myself out. I have come to face the reality that I need the structure and discipline that going to work offers. Like putting on pants, bathing regularly, and acknowledging the existence of a world beyond the three-foot perimeter surrounding my gut and my ass. I am a vulgar, dirty, sloth-like creature. I am a hair and b.o. factory.
I feel worthless if I can't go into my place of employment every couple of days and bitch and moan about how screwed up the company is, how screwed up the people I work with are, and how I managed to screw up the last important thing I needed to get done all on my own. I need to brown-nose and bullshit my way through relationships with my superiors. I need to look at my calendar in my office at least three dozen times a day to remind myself when my next paycheck hits, stare at my watch every 20 - 30 minutes and calculate how much more time I need to be civil and professional, and daydream about The Life I Would Have if I didn't have to work eight hours a day.
Well, I've just gotten a taste of The Life I Would Have, and it aint pretty.
When I take too much time off of work, I worry that, either, a.) things are going horribly, horribly wrong (and it's all my fault, and I'm not there to defend myself and save my job) or, b.) things are going really well, so my boss is wondering why I'm needed at all, and I'm not there to defend myself and save my job).
But, enough of that, I'm back now. I'm bitching, I'm moaning, I'm barking commands and rolling my eyes in exasperation. I'm up to my ass in paperwork with no end in sight.
I'm a trained professional conducting myself in a professional manner. I almost forgot how.