I've been at work since 7. Running to meetings and trying to get some of the projects I'm working on moving forward. My boss asked me to try & cowrite a document with a co-worker who is just the most passive (aggressive) sad sack. Because she was busy —and I'm obviously not (fuck everybody)—I took a stab at a first draft with a list of questions for her. It's her initiative and she has responded to all of my questions with her own questions, some of which are versions of "what do you think?" I TOLD you what I think. Make a fucking decision.

So we have to meet now. I scheduled 30 minutes and she's like, "won't we need more time?" After she told me she didn't have time to meet. It's a two page document that will go to 2 people and come back to us, not a fucking NIH grant.

I have to be here until at least 8 because of an event. I am exhausted and because the weather in NYC is actually nice, some of the rooms are baking while others are freezing. My hair is a frizzy mess after looking pretty lovely at 6am. And my necklace just broke.

I WANT TO GO HOME

ETA: I just heard that Mandela died. I'm sure he complained less in his whole life than I have today. #Perspective