Satisfaction with Factions

‘Tseems I have struggled as of late keeping this here blog stocked with thought-flow. Pity, but bah phooey and who said that a blog needed constant entries anyhoo. My mind muddied with muddled thoughts perhaps a healthy evacuation of such onto this papier digitale may be of benificial brainage beautification.... hence:

I find myself in a peculiar place in life. Oh please, say they of lives more peculiar than mine, but indeed I find it peculiar all the same. First, since May my methode of employ and funding has progressed in two directions, namely slightly improved in dollars and cents wise, considerably improved, nay increased, in responsibilities and activity wise, and fucking o’er flowing in frustration.... wise. My gracious employer has never sparkled in the area of modern technology for the workplace, the bare minimum of rudimentary but reasonably workable IT tools have been furnished in the past and minor grumblings aside I always seemed to be able to press the buttons required to make things happen as required. Unfortunately, an ambitious and somewhat fuckwitted introduction of new systems has rendered my daily activities ridiculously difficult, complex, and bordering on impossible. Complaints are unwelcome to those who champion the new order and solutions will not be forthcoming while my derriere is pointing in a certain direction. Luckily, I have the incredible ability known as “Nary Giving a Fuck” and I bravely work on allowing the things that cannot be done to remain undone. Added to all this, the silly season that is the fault of celebrations related to the story of the miracle of a virgin birth is upon us and the work will soon become all that much harder.

Still in the workplace, I grow weary of the daily battle in a war not worth fighting with some of my occasional comrades. Arguing incoherently with me is like eating a lump of lard, pointless and leaves a bad taste in ones mouth. Some of our people do find themselves in a tough place at the moment, but they confuse me with somebody who has a responsibility to help them. My job is to make decisions that are rather ruthless in nature, and I am sooooo fucking good at it that it gives me energy. I dismiss dilly-dallying, sob stories, and people who think they know my job better than I do, but I wonder if secretly I actually enjoy pissing them off and observing the fits of fury. Is there some degree of masochism involved here, perhaps I subconsciously enjoy having abuse and mental degradation heaped upon me and just when they think I’m out for the count I rise up, kick them in the balls and deliver my own tirade. The workplace is indeed a terrible terrible place, but I’m thinking that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Home life is very subdued, mostly a lack of energy from the encounters above. But alas, a slowly percolating excitement is developing as my years of single living are in their final weeks. It’s a brave new world I embark towards with a wicked grin and understandable trepidation. Having known of her existence for a little over a year now, I have gradually identified her as one of the treasures of the trove and someone I have a desire to desire utterly. Certainly it is not without hurdles to be leaped, but bound together in a three legged race even I feel we shall soar.

Fatigue now descends upon me, so I shall rest.