I gave up on fighting the traffic ticket after finding out it would be next to impossible to compel the officer to revise the accident report so that I am not at fault. Even if the ticket gets thrown out. So rather than rush from a monitoring appointment and reschedule a bunch of work meetings to pointlessly twiddle my thumbs in fucking traffic court, I paid the damn fine. Two points on my license. Insurance rate may go up. Whatever. It's over. If I ever see the other driver again I will flip her the bird, mightily.
One of my work clients has been a total beast. They want to meet with me (over the phone and live web meetings) almost every day, multiple times a day, and I am NOT getting paid by the hour with them. Flat rate. They are also very indecisive and constantly change their minds, usually after I've done exactly what they asked, and then passive-aggressively accuse me of not following their shitty directions. Crikey. I am trying to adopt the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality and just settle in with a nice warm mug of apathy and/or a case of Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe if I can sympathize with my captors it won't seem so bad. The project should be done in a few weeks (all available and remotely possible gods willing). Hanging in there like a kitty on a guidance counselor's poster. Meow.
And tomorrow. I start stims. Welcome back, needle-to-the-gut. So we meet again. Ten glorious days of bloat and headaches. It's like a winter vacation! I need to invent a few excuses to slurp down a glass of wine or a triple gin and tonic in the next couple of weeks while I still can (re: paragraph two).
And so, once again, I prepare to let Hope make me its bitch.