Christ, I wish I could marshall my thoughts enough to post something coherent. I just keep wanting to post songs that have the feel of the moment. I’ve started to post Richard Thompson songs, Be Bop Deluxe songs, Miles Davis songs, Graham Parker songs, and several more I can’t quite recall.

What I really want though is to post my own words, and they’re just not… coming… together…

It’s just been a bitch of a time since the new year; so many little or not so little things have gone wrong or needed attention or consumed my time and energy. I have a list of shit that needs doing that just gets loner and longer, and the things I want, like writing, like taking off from work here and there to appreciate the beautiful things, like just catching my breath, are off the fucking table completely right now. I’m having to steal minutes for myself, not hours.

Work is a fucking pressure cooker. we’re working on some new product or other (and as usual, no, I don’t know what it is, and if I knew, I couldn’t say, and if I told you, I’d just have to kill you), and it’s one of those projects where we need eighteen months to do it, so are asked to do it in three. My team, being the support-and-infrastructure people, have to deliver everything from new internal web sites and wikis to CAD tools and licenses to new machines, to new development methodolgies, and we have to do it yesterday. We’re all spinning and the work, the real design and engineering work, hasn’t even started yet.

I feel like I ain’t had a day off in three months, and I’m not seeing the end of this when I look forward. My team went into this short handed by three people and have effectively had our workload doubled.

I am, how you say, a bit stressed.

But what bothers me is that I can’t tap into the creative center to even express it. I’m just bitching here, and I don’t want to bitch. Bitching-blogs are a royal bore (almost as bad as how-great-is-my-sex-life blogs). In the past I’ve been able to get angry and I can’t even work that up for any prolonged rant. I wind up with low-grade irritated rather than that big seething angry that I can channel into sex and violence. THAT makes me feel better, this, I just wind up fed up with myself.

Feh.