I’ve been having the kind of week where my self-censoring mechanism is breaking down, my stress levels are through the roof, and I mostly want to quit my job. Quit, as in walk out and never go back, not quit as in put in notice and wait a few weeks.

As a random point of interest, it’s possible that I have eaten waaaay too much comfort pineapple.

The specific reason why I can’t quit is that the pregnant woman at work is still a month or two off from maternity leave, and she has promised–promised–that right before she goes, she is going to fake her water breaking to freak out the boss.

To be honest, I’m not sure I would have a baby, right now. The way the world is, it just makes more sense to hold off a few years, and give birth to a twenty-five year old, instead. “Congratulations! It’s a law student!”

Obviously, I would have to find a really big onesie for the shower, but other than that, it’ll be fine.

I work with the public.

There are days which are beautiful, and perfect, and you see the best in people.

There are days when people are grateful for what you do for them.

And then, there are days like this week.

You get a glimpse of the edge. A hint of the abyss. You can’t escape the fact that it’s there, and you dread to think how far down the bottom really is.

Comfort pineapple and hammock lounging are not making it better.