Yesterday was a shitty, suck ass day.

My own damned fault, of course.

I didn't get as much done on my grant on Thursday as i should have. Then Shanny and I went out Thursday night, both of us feeling the need to disect the state of our fucked up love lives, as we were both feeling pretty down about the whole thing. This, of course, led to too many cocktails. By the time T and the cast of his show arrived in the bar at 11, we were both pretty snapped. Shanny spent the rest of the evening flirting with the lead actor from the show and I got in to a long, involved argument with one of the other actors about Mel's PASSION movie, which neither of us has actually seen yet. Didn't make it home to bed until 3am.

I woke up yesterday morning with a hang-over, a headache and a big well of depression (the last two certainly being a result of the first condition). I decided I had to stay home to work on the grant, as it's so hard to get much writing done in the office, with people coming and going and making noise and asking me things. But I needed to go in to the office to get the paperwork and the file.

When I got there, my business manager pulled me aside and told me she's decided that she "can't take it anymore" and she's giving notice for the end of May. Now, I kind of new that was coming. I think if she hadn't decided now, the board would have eventually decided for her, as they're not happy with her work. And she and I have been having problems all year. But it still threw me for a loop. It's going to be a mighty task to replace her by June. She's been there a long time and I don't know how to do half the things she does, like financial stuff, payrole, bills, etc., and I don't want to have to learn how to do that stuff and take it over. Plus I know she blames a lot of the reasons for why she's leaving on me, and I can't help the guilt I feel over that, even though I know it's not really my fault.

In the car on the way home, I started crying and couldn't stop. It just all seemed so overwhelming.

Add to that the fact the R is leaving town for 8 weeks on Sunday and hasn't found the time to see me before he goes. He did finally email me yesterday to say that he's been really busy but he'll call before he leaves, but that doesn't really make me feel better. I can't help but feel that if it really mattered, he would have found time. I know it's probably for the best, but I still feel really let down. He's told me a million times that I'm so important to him, but he can't find time for me before he goes away? Typical. But I feel like I have a great big bruised smashed heart.

And I'm worried that someone I know has been reading this diary. Hence the decision to lock up for now. It made me sick with anxiety yesterday, and then I started thinking about what a fool I am to be writing about the things I've written about here on the net, where the possibility always exists that someone could find it. It made me wonder about whether I have a secret desire to get caught out or something. I needed the outlet for all of this, but at what cost?

So, I ended up at home with this horrible sick anxious blue funk, unable to do anything but park in front of the TV and turn it up loud to try to drown out the crap that was screaming around in my head. I didn't really do any more grant writing. I'll have to spend all weekend here in front of my computer to get it done by Monday morning. Not the best way to write a grant that's supposed to supply operating funds to the company for the next three years. But a good indication of where my life is at these days.

To top it all off, I've done something to my foot, and I don't have a clue what, but it's some kind of tendonitus in my heel, which hurts like crazy and makes it hard to walk, so I haven't been able to do any working out for the past three days.

Now I have to get out of here, go shower, go in to work for the closing performance, come home, chain myself to the computer and write for the rest of the day, go to a birthday party for a gal I don't really even like tonight, try not to get drunk, come home, sleep, get up and chain myself to the computer all day again tomorrow. If I'm really good, maybe I can get done in time to watch the Oscars tomorrow. Or I may be pulling an all-nighter tomorrow night.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

P.S. Oh yeah, and I had a dream last night, where I was a kid and I was waiting around for someone to kill me. I knew it was going to happen, it was pre-planned or something, and I kept trying to get them to change their minds, but I couldn't. I had no choice but to wait for it to happen. There's an indication of my state of mind right now, huh?