queenoftheskies

I know what I'm writing now seems like nothing. I used to be able to crank out so much more.

This drive is killing me. It's already killed my free time...what little there was.

Work is killing me. My boss is...she's not real bright about a lot of things. There are areas of her job she doesn't know how to do. That's why she's doing this to me...forcing me to go down there. Because I was Controller under the old company, and I DO know how to do the things she can't. (She's only been with the company for 8 months.)

So, she's giving me these HUGE projects and then taking my work and passing it off as her own. I've seen her do it THREE times now. She didn't know how to do the work herself.

She's desperate that no one finds out.

She also had me transferred down there so I could do her job so she can take two weeks off in June. It might be the same time as Writers Weekend, and then I couldn't go. :(

And, I've already paid my money. It was not easy to come up with.

And, each day, the drive kills me a little more.

And, I guess I kill myself, too, because I can't just drive and work and drive and work. I'll lose my freaking mind. I have to write. I have to read. I have to do things that remind me I'm still me, and not some automaton like they think at work.

I have so many ideas. I want to finish my current novel and I have the next in my head. I have ideas to really make Out of the Darkness and Xanali shine, and I'm just itching to get to work on them.

But, I have no time. No time. No time.

I can't stand the drive. A tape recorder does me no good. There's still no time to type up what I dictate. There's still stop and start traffic and changing lanes and changing freeways and crazy people that dart in front of me.

I'm trying to be strong about the whole thing, but it's making me nuts.

Sniffle. I need a hug.

Phantom Song

1,024 words today