I had the worst day ever at work yesterday.

My boss (Terry) yelled at me because I'd forgotten to do a little worksheet that, upon being reminded, I whipped out in less than five minutes. She then yelled at me for not having been "productive" on the weekend. I work damn hard on the weekends and this weekend was no exception. I get tons of stuff done on the weekends. I often stay late on Sundays if I haven't finished all the office work I need to be done - and I don't log it onto my time card. So I was pretty damn mad that someone would accuse me of, essentially, not working hard simply because I forgot to whip out one little worksheet. Furthermore, Terry has told me on many, many occasions that it's ok with her if I "relax" a little on weekends because she knows how hectic the weekdays are. So anyway, she started yelling at me. I promptly made a witty comeback by bursting into tears. And hiccuping. Eventually, after discussing a few workplace issues, I explained to her that sometimes I have a really difficult time with her as a supervisor because she's kind of "schizophrenic" in her messages to me. She will get on me to work really hard at something, and then when I'm working really hard at that task, she will tell me not to worry so much about it. She will yell at me for not being productive enough on the weekend, and then she will tell me that I should relax on the weekends and not worry so much. She then told me that the word "schizophrenic" really offended her because it's a very serious disease and I shouldn't use that to describe that behavior and it really hurt her feelings. I should also explain that Terry and I are usually pretty friendly on both a professional and personal level. (Ok, that sounds preverted - what I mean is that she and I will talk about our personal lives and she teaches me about knitting and cares about my career future, etc.) So I burst into tears again. I felt awful for having hurt her, and stupid for having used the word "schizophrenic" instead of "inconsistent" which is the word I should have used. I just couldn't think of that word in that moment. So, after crying for a few more minutes, I asked her to please, please tell me when I say things that bother her. I'd used that term before. And then, she goes "Oh, I just let it roll off my back." !!!! WELL IF YOU LET IT ROLL OFF YOUR BACK, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU YELLING AT ME OVER IT FOR? EITHER LET IT ROLL OR TELL ME GOD DAMN IT!!! That's the precise behavior I was talking about. You just can't say something is ok and then yell at me about it at other times.

Anyway, I don't think that was the only reason I was crying all day. It started the water works, but there must be something else wrong. Generally, I'm a pretty mentally stable person. When I was a senior in college, I had two weekend incidents very similar to yesterday. Twice, I spent an entire weekend off and on in tears. Am I clinically depressed? Actually, I suspect that it's a combination of sleep deprivation and seasonal affective disorder. What else could explain the fact that I was bursting into tears over every little thing yesterday? Teddy bear singing Christmas Carols in the store? Waaaaaa! Sinking oil tanker in Spain? Waaaaaa! Harry Potter is being chased by a big snake? Waaaaaa! George Bush is president? Ok, well that's a good reason to cry. But I seem to be ok today. If it happens again, I'll go see a doctor, I guess. I don't feel like it's all that serious - I don't have suicidal thoughts or anything, I just get sad for a day.

Yesterday was also The Boy's birthday. He was a big ol' sad sack too. He says he gets depressed around his birthday. It's really hard to be around him when he's grumpy like that. He doesn't talk at all and answers all querries with one sylable or, if you're lucky, two. So you're forced to have silent dinners and car rides etc.

I caught up on sleep today. That was a very good thing. I'm so glad that the work week is over. I have a feeling that this off-week isn't going to last long enough.

I picked up my bike from the bike shop. I had a basic tune-up and they found that my bottom bracket had a big ugly groove in it where I'd grinded it to shit. I got a new bike seat and I got the breaks replaced (they tend to wear out from the part of my morning commute where I go down the hill to downtown at about 30mph and come to a sudden stop in the middle of the hill at the door to my office - but it's oh so much fun to do!) and it cost me $108. It's like having a car. Damn. I should save what I spend on repairs for this bike and just buy myself a new one. But, I can say that the bike ride home was so nice and smooth - I'd noticed that it was kind of hard to peddle and I always felt like I was about to break the chain. I forgot that the peddles are supposed to just glide around. The bracket makes a huge difference.

I went to the library today for the first time in probably more than a year. I haven't gone since they closed the Capital Hill branch. I used to like my tiny little neighborhood library. I also really liked the old downtown library. The temporary one downtown is so utilitarian and generally unwelcoming. I picked up a bunch of Emily Hahn's books and a biography on her. I love Emily. I love love love her writing. I wish she were more widely read. I haven't met anyone else who likes her as much as I do. Heck, I don't think I've met anyone else who has ever read any of her books. I've given copies of No Hurry To Get Home to half of my friends - so many that I forget who already has copies and who doesn't. She's truly "a great lost American literary treasure." She really deserves to be more widely read. What I wouldn't give to have an anthology of all of her New Yorker articles! So go read something of hers, already!