My pre-graduate school job was a (very) basic admin position. Technically, I was the receptionist, but as a reward for being the most well-read receptionist in NYC, I was given loads of extra responsibilities. And with this, of course, came no rewards and a fair share of ridiculousity. Whenever Smarmy (as I secretly called the department head) would make an unfair request or ridiculous demand, I would boil with anger. Because it wasn’t fair.

Of course, even at my most rageful moments, I recognized that I had it pretty good. But bitching about your boss is practically a requirement, especially of being a young 20-something in NYC. So anyway, I definitely did more than my fair share of complaining to my co-workers, all of whom were friends and who were happy to have a drink after work and complain about their own lot at the organization.

But then in March I found out I got into UChicago, and so it didn’t (or shouldn’t have) matter(ed) as much. I would be leaving in September (Smarmy did not know this). Still, my emotional reaction was not tempered by this knowledge.

This summer, a seemingly minor, but fairly major change was implemented at work. I was really upset. A couple weeks later I started the application process for the Libertarian process, and since I was over the stomach-sickening anxiety of the first few weeks of my new responsibility (it involves phones. I hate anwering phones. I think it should be an ADA recognized condition) I was able to forget it.

Now the Libertarian Fellowship is not a possibility, and I’m stuck here, and I’m still stuck answering this phone, and I know this is really no big deal. And that’s really as much details about the situation as I should go into, because it’s stupid to blog about work.

But the emotional reaction is the same as it was to Smarmy, and this time, I don’t even have an escape.  I’m overly tired (I think) and it’s upsetting me more than it should.