Today was a day from hell.

I took Nyquil last night because I'm totally sick.

The alarm went off at 5. Now when the alarm goes off at 5am and I know that my mat is waiting for me, I generally roll out of bed, throw on my Hard Tail pants, brush my teeth, make sure the mat is in the back of the car and go....

When the alarm goes off at 5 and I know a two hour train ride for some obscure reason is in front of me, it takes much longer to get up and get going.... a lot longer.

I felt like I was on crack all day. My hands were jittery, my mind wouldn't calm down, my heart seemed to be racing. This is what allopathic medicine does to me... it whacks me out. This is why instead of using Ambien, I prefer ancient herbal remedies... I can't hang in the pharmaceutical drug world. I'd wind up a jittery, shaking pool on the ground in some dark corner.

I listened to Nine Inch Nails on the iPod every chance I got.

This was the mood that I was in when my boss decided he was going to drop yet another insane request on my plate. The request in and of itself isn't or wasn't insane but the fact that any average developer would be strung out for the next 12 months, if not 18, with the plate I have in front of me and I'm only just a slight degree above average means that any additional request is about to put me into the mouse hole. The thing is, my boss, he doesn't give credit towards the very difficult job it is to develop good applications and, moreover, to develop those off of code that is still in beta. I'm good, I'm not that good. No one is that good. Sorry to say it but no one is. I know some rocking developers, none of them could pull of the magic that he's asking for. He seems to think that's he paid me some gigantic salary and that, as a result, I should deliver what is impossible. I can deliver, I can't make milk out of steam. The gigantic salary... yea, it's large for legal... but the bottom line is I can make far more outside of this market and I know it. Everyone knows it. I don't like being treated with disrespect and I don't much like feeling like I'm not productive. I can be working my ass off but if there isn't a shiny new present at some point in the future, what do I have to show for it.... absolutely nothing.

So, the request... he asked, I retorted perhaps not in the nicest manner... I pushed, he pushed... and I ended up just pissed off. Unfortunately, this was shortly before I was due to leave... I began the process of packing up much too late, stopped for a few minutes to take some shots with another dev's 70-300mm Canon lens and see how it worked... and then ran outside to catch a cab. It went something like this:

4:41: Julie packs up her shit, runs out of office.
4:45: Julie goes to taxi cab stand outside office
4:46: Taxi cab driver refuses to take me to Union Station, motions to me to take bus
4:46: I indicate that the bus isn't fast enough and I need cab
4:46: Cab driver refuses to take me
4:47: I say F-U to taxi cab driver, look for another cab.. see none
4:48: Cross street, ask bus driver, what time the bus leaves: 4:55 -- nope won't make it
4:49: Cross back to other side of street, man in utility vehicle says "I've been waiting for you all my life." I reply "Gee, thanks." Continue back to find a cab.
4:50: Asshole taxi driver gets another cab, talks to him, motions to me
4:50: Cab driver picks me up, I say "Thanks a lot asshole, I've now missed my train" to first taxi cab driver (the yoga is really shining through now isn't it!)
4:50: Utility personnel on street scream and whistle at my tenacity. I shove my shit into the cab.
4:51: Cab driver speeding down street.
4:52: I call The Husband and proceed to berate first cab driver, using colorful curse words and otherwise acting as far from a compassionate yogini as I can.
4:55: At green light waiting to turn left... light turns yellow... I say "I'll give you $5 extra bucks if you run that light."
4:56: Cab driver runs red light.
4:58: Cab driver exchanges money and receipts with me in cab. I give him a $8 tip.
4:58: I run out of cab and run at least 1/2 mile over slippery tile in my 4 inch Michael Kors heels.
5:00: I get on train, sweating and pissed but bound for San Diego (next train leaves at 8pm).

5:58: I can feel the congestion in my sinuses.. I will be much sicker tomorrow.

Stress sucks.

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In honor of Jenna's post about the quite attractive Dagoba (also my favorite chocolate at the moment... Roseberry... mhmmmm... I'm sorry Chuao but for good cheaper chocolate... Dagoba is it) founder, I shall tell my own sordid, female fantasy story.

I rarely get attracted purely by the male form. Generally attraction stems more from mental connection, wit, humor... all the good female emotional stuff. I met this guy recently who is pretty buff and into working out. We've, of course, talked about yoga vs. working out, etc., etc. Today I saw a "model picture" of him... and I have to say, woah... I won't post it here out of respect for his privacy but, well, sick or not, what was Jenna's word? Yummy?

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I contacted The Best Doctor In The World yesterday. I asked him how much longer til I can practice. Not only have I gained 10 pounds but I swear cellulite is coming out in places I never had it before (or maybe that's just wishful thinking)... his response was this:

"The longer the better..."

F.

Isn't it amazing how self pity, alcohol indulgence and lowered self-esteem go hand in hand with my lack of yoga ;) Tiffany told me last night "Oh you always have your yoga, you carry it with you." Blah freaking blah... I'm done being noble.. I'm just a big freakin' whiney bitch... it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.