Breathing is such a hassle

[luckycanuck]

Today has been the worst day yet of this current downward trajectory.

Yesterday was frustrating given the letters sent in to me.  I have now come to compare them to being shouted at by people on the street.  Nothing is accomplished in sending them, nothing is accomplished in responding to them, and most of them are badly thought out and badly put together.  In short, this part of my work (and there isn't much else) basically reduces to me responding to people's uninformed ad-hoc reckons.

I went home last night without going to the gym.  I didn't feel like it and State of Origin was on anyway.  I did do some core work at home and Helga and I had a chat over oranges.  She's been quite helpful through this period.

This morning I drive into work and sat in my car for a couple minutes in the car park before deciding to move.  I was all wistful and frustrated and struggling to make decisions, even as simple as getting out of the car.  This weekend I was thinking about going to Sydney, but I can't decide whether or not to do that either.  Every option seems negative.  If you were to ask me what I wanted for lunch, I probably couldn't tell you.  Even simple decisions are suddenly onerous.

Around mid morning I was called upon to go with W to a meeting he was attending.  That meant walking with him to and from the meeting which was profoundly uncomfortable, especially when he expressed his desire to respond to more of the correspondence sent to us rather than referring it to others.  To be honest, if you send him an e-mail or a letter and it comes across my desk, I will probably find some excuse not to respond.  I can't say the pressure of overwork is getting to me, because... what overwork?

The meeting itself was as pointless as my attending it.  After I got back to the office, I found myself sinking further into discomfort.  The division bells rang with alarming regularity.  The phone went off again and again.  The guy I share an office with during sitting weeks was talking on the phone in whispers which makes me think he was talking about me (he wasn't.)  I got up and walked outside with a vacant look on my face and rang Minou.

It was at that point that the simple act of breathing became difficult.  It's not as though I was choking to death, but I was sufficiently uncomfortable that breathing in and out was a hassle.

I'm considerably better now.  I had a coffee with one friend and a further chat with another, and I will make it through today.  (More than one person has suggested going home early given that I am now feeling physically strained and have nothing vital to do, but I don't think I am able to leave.  Such is the difficulty I have in making even obvious decisions.)  Tomorrow will be much easier with no Parliament sitting, and then there are two more weeks before the winter break.  I think I can do that.

After that, I think I need to speed up my departure, even if I don't have something else to land in.  This is not good.