I was in a good mood this morning.
Of course, psychobitch of course had to have a “webscale” blowup and start making threats about smashing up my hardware and throw me out on the lawn because someone who can afford a Porsche is a failure (because she refuses to accept anyone can,) how I fake my medical condition, how she bent over backwards (whining the whole time) whenever I needed help (also not true,) and so on.
Thus ruining what was a low blood pressure, low stress, low cigarette day that was letting me make real progress in cleaning up my office I’ve been neglecting of depression. And of course when I mentioned I was literally suicidal from the shitshow I had been subjected to? Oh yes, that’s just a lie to hurt her. You know, because it affects me none at all.
Resulting in my blood pressure still being deep into the danger zone, my neurologist/neuropsych horrified and wondering how I’m still alive again.
Don’t suppose anyone local’s looking for someone quiet, well rounded mechanic, computer wizard extraordinaire. As of yesterday, I am officially funemployed (which was my good mood this morning.) Short term deal as I’m talking with two big players about jobs far less insulting to my intelligence. So I don’t expect to wait too long to be able to get back to buying a house.