Another day and I am almost done packing. Now what to do with all the stuff I have crammed into boxes?

So, there was a survey that said people who have been put under quaratine because of possible exposure to SARS experience high stress levels. Well, hello! Sitting there wondering if whoever they came into contact with is going to die and wondering if they are going to get it and die could prove to be a little stressful. Who pays for these things? Give me the money instead.

So it is my last Friday. I feel deflated. I feel sad and sorry and yucky and whiny and antisocial and tired and worn out. I have a million things to do, but I am not. Oh well. I wanted this? It is just like any other Friday. I wonder how much I should do because I wonder if I will be back.

I've did it. I have a means out. Of course, I have already backed down on my means and have postponed it for 2 days. 2days!!! They have even asked for more and I was wish-washy about it, but no more. I will not be coming in on Monday I will say. I deserve a leave. I am told by many people I do anyway and I feel like I do, but when I experience the anger of management I feel like I am letting everyone down. I have to be reminded they left me down by endangering my life by making me live with a psychotic person. I have a lot of packing to do and I sure don't want to start it.

Well, it looks like I may be out of this little community in about a week, which is 3 weeks ahead of schedule. I am not holding my breath, but in some ways I am. I cleaned up my house this weekend and it looks better than it has in a long time. My ghastly neighbour is also trying to kiss my butt, which makes me even more skeptical than usual. She must know by now, by her swings in moods, that I don't trust her. She goes from "You b****." to "Oh, I don't know why these things happen to me, what is going on?"