Friday, again. I haven't accomplished much today, not that anyone but me seems to be paying attention. I fixed one crisis in the patient accounting area (rebooted, ta da, problem solved), sent out an e-mail to everyone about the latest virus (when in doubt, DON'T OPEN IT!!!), sent instructions to someone about how to get access to our VPN (and she's not even my user - her current LAN manager is too busy to be bothered by requests for such things as secure remote access - the asshole), and created a PassportHealth account for a new user (again, not anyone I support, but we don't have enough security officers in other departments, so I just do it myself). And now it's almost 11:00, I've got to go get Heather since today is only a half-day, then I get to go to my boss's 50th birthday party. It's over at 2:00 - I'm finding it hard to justify driving back. But we'll see. If not, then Monday's another day, I'm sure.
I've never been good with expressing emotions. I always felt that emotions were a sign of weakness - part of being raised as my father's "son", I suppose. Lately I'm having a hard time bottling up those things that bubble up when people start flinging arrows and stones. Some I deserve. Others, less so. Innocent comments get taken out of context and used to further some cause. I make a genuine post about an overwhelming feeling I have, and someone turns it into an accusation, based on some sort of internet statistic that proves I've posted in response to something else. Frankly, I don't see the connection. I get angry more often than I used to, but I often feel like I've been kicked in the gut too. I'm not accustomed to that one. It usually brings tears. Intended kindnesses are perceived as attempts to control. And this post will be labeled as an attempt to send someone on a guilt trip - but hey - if the shoe fits, baby, wear it out.
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