*With abject apologies for the self-wallowing ranty whinge

Another late night at the office last night - got home at ten to midnight.

I'm tired.

Had my appraisal where I was told that even though I've been waiting for a pay rise to suit my promotion from a year ago, I'll only get it if I hit my next 3 month objectives. And even then it's not enough to suit the role I now do. Or the hours that I work. Or the industry average.

I'm tired.

I'm still single, which isn't surprising seeing that I spend all my time in this god forsaken office.

I feel blue about so many things in my life, but am loathe to admit that to anyone. Besides, I've flirted with depression for as long as I can remember and have always managed to adopt the ostrich approach in the past. But these days it's getting easier to talk myself into a funk, than it is to talk myself out.

I'm tired, harassed, I saunter from insomniac to narcoleptic on a day to day basis.

And worst of all, I have developed an irritating twitch in my right eye which makes me look like Herbert Lom from the Pink Panther Strikes Again.

I'm so tired and overwhelmed by it all.

And then I found an old notebook with my familiar scrawl....good old George Bernard Shaw, always seems to articulate things in just the right way...

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. The people who get on in this world are the people who look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them."

I guess that's me told then.

Someone pass me the job pages.

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