The Worry

As I got home yesterday, I began to worry.
That worrying continued late into the night, until I could hardly keep my eyes open for want of sleep.
And yet the worrying failed to cease when the broken sleep fell on me and it was crouching upon me as I woke, waiting to strike at the moment my eyes were unshielded from the welcome darkness.
And it continues.
I'm heavy shouldered, snappy enough that my co-workers have noticed and questioned me and generally irritable. And I can't explain it.

A man from Projects Abroad came to do a second evaluation form. I wasn't as generous as I had been previously. I also wasn't as critical as I wished to be.
They asked me what I was doing, and I replied, "Job placement." They asked me what I'd like to be doing and I replied, "Marketing." I asked that I be able to add to my placement - perhaps I'll go do human rights and law for the next little bit so that I'm not quite so pent up here. I'm going to see if there's the possibility that I can split my weeks, or my days, or something.

Today I added a new line of attack as far as job placements go. I have added a form that requires that people who come in to use the services available here to sign a sheet detailing their job application. This way, when I write the report to the funders, I'll be able to at least have an idea of how many applications we are sending in a month.
I've decided that Fridays are going to be my manual days in which I spend the entire day attempting to reconstruct their Fit for Life/Fit for Work manual.
I'm branching out to do organization of the income generation project - inventory control, etc. This begins tomorrow, or whenever I get around to it.

I worry that I'm constantly complaining, and I don't mean for that to be the case. I'm quickly losing hope and am running out of bright ideas. Today, I am working with the same woman who was rude to me the other day, and who was just as rude this morning. She demanded the newspapers, even though they're outdated and won't be of much help.
And then she told me to email for her. I responded that since I emailed for her last time, she would have to do it herself today, but that I'd supervise.
I sat next to her and we spent the next twenty minutes formulating an email.
And so, for today, I have one job application on the way.

I've been having terrible dreams. I'm not sure what they're about, entirely, but they're full of fire and dark clouds and strange events. I wake up tired, confused, unaware that I've left my dream world. Soon enough, they've dissipated and I've begun my day, but I'm hoping that a night of relaxation activities tonight will cure me of the dark cloud that seems to have decided to follow me around this week. But I'm not entirely convinced that it will.

I hope tonight there will be no more dreams like that. Three nights is enough, I've decided. Tonight I will dream of something else, something abstract and colorful, something that isn't oddly off-putting. I think it might be the spark of a bout of creativity, one of those Virginia Woolf moments where for no reason I'm seized by an incurable pessimistic mood and from which I able to draw the bases of the art form I love best. And so I remain hopeful that this unexplainable moodiness is a call for withdrawal and creation, rather than a symptom of some greater dissatisfaction or uncurable fear.

I had to send a message to my former roommate today, and I think that's what part of the worry was about. I wanted to do it in public, so she coudn't accuse me of not having sent anything at all, as both she and her family have done in the past, ignoring my emails, etc.
This time, it must be dealt with.
Deep breaths, I thought, as I typed it. She'll respond kindly and fairly. She'll be pleasant about the whole thing. We'll split it down the middle and maybe she'll give me what she's been promising for nearly a year.

The worry hasn't eased up. It's breathing down my neck.