Fuck

So I'm sitting in my fucking apartment having just gone on stress leave from my job. My wonderful job. I don't really have much to say about it except it's a callcenter and when my life is loaded full of shit I can only take so much extra from work. I want a job where I go and I work and then go home. Not one where I get yelled at by some douchebag who's tv is on the fritz or some bitch who can't use a computer. I used to be amazing at dealing with that shit but since going on antipsychotics I'm not. Who would have thought that psychosis would make me good at my job. So I'm off for two weeks and then I go back. I fully intend on going back and hope I can make things work but if I can't then I'll have to get by and look for work elsewhere. I don't usually think of leaving my job but since they put me on disciplinary action level 2 for being absent with a doctors note things have changed.

Oh I forgot to mention: Rage Mania. Been having that all day and it's about as fun as shooting yourself in the eye with a nailgun repeatedly. I was going to stay up and work on my writing but thanks to rage mania I'm probably just going to down some liquor and go to sleep because I can't deal with this feeling.

This is my life, I'm poor and at risk of losing my job. I wouldn't give a fuck normally but I have a cat who isn't allowed to live with y parents if I were to move back and there is no way in fucking hell that I am being seperated from Artemis. You would have to pry him from my cold dead hands to seperate us, or I his.

Anyway life sucks and I'm out.