  If I had have done what I said I would do, it is very likely that I would be at work right now. I've noticed, though, that things hardly ever work out they way I want them to, or at least the way I intended. After much deliberation with the husband type, I decided not to take the job with the bakery. Here's the thing: in addition the crap i mentioned earlier, i had the stunning realisation that I have to be unemployed in order to be eligible for the disablities fund. So, it was either take the job, and forgo finishing my degree, for a job that'll give me nine hours a week. Added to which, ever since I found out I got the job I've been in a nightmare, not sleeping, crying, and simply waiting for that other shoe to drop. The very thought of work had me paralysed. I suppose it doesn't say much about my work ethic.
I got to thinking about the pizza place, and how eventually it got to me, the selling dishes door to door, and how that got to me, and basically, how everything has been getting to me, eventually allowing myself to spaz. Maybe, just maybe, I'm breaking that idiotic cycle by just waiting, and recovering, and, uh, recovering (navel gazing). 
