So I worked almost 13 hours today, on a thankless project that will extend into at least as many hours Friday and VERY probably Saturday and Sunday also. I rather hate my job lately. Really, really hate it. I used to love it, and now, I just dread getting out of bed in the morning. I came home sobbing, fighting back tears on the train and then the bus. Niles was at the Small Bar and lured me in with promises of Cappuccino stout, which made it a little better. They had a special mac and cheese with grilled steak, mushrooms, onion and blue cheese, and I ordered it because I was angry, beyond angry, really, at my stupid, shitty, horrible day, and the three stupid shitty horrible days that are waiting for me on the other end of a too-short sleep tonight.

I regretted it almost immediately. It tasted good, but not good enough to make me feel better. At least I only ate half of it. I guess I really am past trying to fill emotional holes with food. It was an okay mac but, ultimately, unsatisfying. Now I’m going to sleep and try not to dream about how horrible the next three days are going to be.