8.20.2005

A Slow Death

I'm on the ragged edge. I'm sitting in what my company calls a "dress rehearsal," attempting to do my job. Things that typically take me 3 minutes, now take me thirty. I don't even understand what I'm doing. There is nothing coherent here, including my thoughts. I'm just frozen.

I just want this to be over with. It's like taking an exam in school when you haven't prepared. My anxiety level would get so high. The only slightly comforting thing that I could tell myself was that in ten years, this test wouldn't matter. I wouldn't even remember it.

Yeah, I just want to cry.

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