Yesterday morning I got in my car and the windows were all fogged over from the cold. I managed to clear the front, but as I pulled around the parking lot, the sun hit full force and I was completely and utterly blind. I could barely see out enough to pull off into a parking space, where I got out of the car and cleared the windows as best I could with the huge towel that lives in the trunk for just this sort of thing. This morning wasn't nearly as bad, but I still wiped down the back window as a precaution, and let the defogger run a bit before I braved that direct sunlight.

There is one other woman here who worked for the Little Fish before we were swallowed two years ago, and we have a perspective on things that the manager of this project probably doesn't exactly want to hear, but at least admit he needs to hear anyway. She and I have talked a bit already about our frustrations on what we're seeing on this project, and the blinders that the rest of the team seems to be wearing. There is a bit of comfort in at least knowing that I am not alone in what I am seeing here.

The sad thing is that despite my reservations about this project, normally I would probably be interested in this, happy to get involved, energetic and enthusiastic. I need to remember why it was I'd normally be excited and try to find that center again. I need that energy. I need it to get through this week, and then past when the week is over and they call about those interviews to let me know they aren't going to hire me after all, or that they can't afford to pay me what we need me to get paid to make this work. I need to find that energy or I'm going to end up depressed and miserable, annoying the others on this project with the remnants of my frustration and despair over the loss of what, so far, has really my only means of escaping this company I never wanted to be a part of.

After work tonight I headed for the open mall across the freeway and found a bookstore. I wandered the pitifully small sci-fi/fantasy section until I finally found a few books by an author I'd never heard of. The titles sounded interesting and the summaries a bit more so, so I bought two and then took them over across the huge parking lot to one of the large chain restaurants there. I sat at a teeny booth and for nearly two hours I picked at my dinner slowly while I read one of the books cover to cover. And for that nearly two hours I completely forgot about everything else - being here, this project, the interviews and the job I want so badly. It was almost odd to emerge from that little bubble of unreality as I paid the check and left for my little corporate apartment. I hadn't realized quite how badly I needed to relax.