Here's what nutty looks like:

I have been dreading my one part-time job for a few months now. I'm supposed to work as an administrative assistant for sixteen hours a week at a software corporation that makes software (I know, it's crazy!) for car companies, and as my job is essentially pointless, I can pick whichever hours I want as long as I write it down beforehand for my boss. I sit in a little office that I share with BossMan, and he looks one way and I look the other, and we pretty much ignore each other unless I've done something wrong. Which happens surprisingly often for a job that could be done by a trained monkey...anyway: I've never been what you might call thrilled with the job, but I gotta do something and this is what there was.

So I've been all, "I don't want to go to work at eight, that's too early, I'll just wait a while, have breakfast and read for a few minutes and make sure I look really good when I get in there, like, wearing pants without cat hair and a shirt that I put on a hanger reasonably soon after I got it from the drier, like Super Professional." Then I do all that and get scared because I'm late and I don't want my boss to yell at me...not that he ever yells at me, but he gets all low-voiced and cynical sounding and stern. And I truly hate being spoken to like that; it reminds me of my father, to whom I no longer speak because I've realized he was kind of abusive and also kind of a jackass, and jackass doesn't go away. ANYway, my boss is not a jackass, not at all, but he does that talking thing and tells me what to do (I know that's what bosses do, but it's like what computer I need to buy or what kind of personal schedule I should set up, things that aren't his business because I'm twenty-six and may not be able to get to work on time but at least I can make my bad decisions on my own, thank you very much!) and it all just makes me anxious.

At any rate, it occurred to me last Friday that I didn't like my job (I am very perceptive) and that maybe my boss would prefer an assistant who actually showed up, so I called the temp agency and put in my two weeks notice. I went into work on Wednesday evening...when I knew my boss would be gone...and was supposed to go in today, the first time I would have seen BossMan since I put in my notice.

Well, of course you know that I didn't make it. I kept meaning to go in, and kept getting more and more freaked out about it, until my boss called...twice...and then the temp agency called. So what did I do? Well, I ignored the calls from BossMan and called the nice-sounding new lady at the agency, and Maturely and Professionally explained to her that I couldn't go in to work OR call in due to the fact that I was Scared Of My Boss Talking Mean To Me.

But she was so nice about it.

Then I called my therapist to ask about anxiety medication.

Then I drank some wine. It was 3:52.