Last night sucked balls. And my credit card is still locked because I faxed that stuff and apparently my ID wasn't clear enough and my signature doesnt match the one on file. Yeah, uh-huh. So who am I then? Some random Canadian who stole my handbag and knows all my passwords who decided to add credit to my skype account and who speaks with a strong Australian twag. Yeah, that's it I'm sure. Morons. I probably shouldn't have lost my temper with the guy on the phone though. I really lost my trop and now I feel bad because I probably ruined his day.
But that was then, this is now. Despite having not solved that problem and crying myself to sleep in Obi's arms, crushed under the weight of the world, I dragged my sorry arse to work thismorning and turned my mind to the problem of Dickhead & House.
I think I might even be good at this shit, but only time will tell. I have a lot of ideas, and a lot of people who can help me, whom I'm trying to track down even as I type this. Even my boss agreed to help me - and agreed to give me a raise! Huge weight off my shoulders there!!
We also read half way through the Dickhead's statement and I poured out every angry thought into a waiting pad of paper, picked apart every lie I could and thought up how I could prove each was false. It's a daunting task, but at the same time, I'm very lucky that I have lots of people around me to support me and offer practical help and hell, I tend to be pretty lucky in general really. So woo!
To make it better I'm off tomorrow (well, on call
) so I can relax, focus... and just... be. It's going to be ok. Somehow.