So many pencils.

Lots of pencils in my bag.

Have just arrived home, walking up the hill with a million, billion bags... umbrella... computer... ghetto blaster. My arms are something like a foot longer than they were when I woke up this morning. Very sick of bizarre work politics which boil down to my boss-type person watching me very very closely all of a sudden because of his decision to believe that I'm falsifying all my timesheets. Being Watched ties neatly into my pre-existing paranoia, and deliciously, the whole shebang is making me horribly, horribly anxious. Yesterday evening I was borderline panic attack for something like three hours, all ready for Flight or Fright, as I walked to the other end of town to see my Accountant, and then bussed back the opposite direction, to have fish curry at the Boy's. Jittery the whole way, all ready for someone to tell me off for running late... which I was. Horribly late.

Supposedly I'm going to have confront this issue. I'm going away to Auckland for work next week and the thought of being away from home and having someone breathing down my neck the whole time fills me with both dread and rising fear.

Oh So Drama.