on the brink of destruction

I'm tired. I'm so tired I don't know how to feel anything else. I'm letting every little thing get to me, things that I wouldn't even normally even consider thinking twice about - or more likely, even once. But I don't know how to not let it get to me and it's not like I can do anything about it.

I have to make it through an eight hour day. If I was really bored, I could probably caculate how many of these 28 days have been spent actually working, but who wants to read about that? I'm not even sure I want to type about it. If I can make it through the next 18 hours without breaking down and balling my eyes out, I'll amaze even myself at what I am capable of.

My weekend was okay. Slow day at the Main on Saturday because nothing but our permanent exhibits remain; Dossin showed slight improvement over last weekend's dismal showing. Today was the 305th Birthday celebration and our last day open before our makeover begins - we had 346 people come with nearly everyone giving at least one dollar in donation. For some of them, it was a lot more than that; for others, it was nothing. It all balanced itself out in the end. I was happy. Dossin today did 25 people - I dare say one of the best days since my tenure there. Sad in so many ways.

Overall, the birthday festivities went off great. My parents came down. My brother was there - seeing the Corsica in the parking lot totally threw me off when I went to fix the parking gates for the tenth time in a row. I had a protester on Woodward. His sign read something about how the Native Americans founded Detroit and Cadillac invaded it. However in one of our exhibits it very clearly states how the Indians were living in this area for a couple thousand years before Cadillac showed up. No one denys Native Americans were here, in fact, Cadillac even had some in his canoe as he sailed on the river and eventually banked on the land. I went and explained that to him - turns out he knew because he used to work at the museum. So all righty then. He was wallowing in his own ignorance and I let him continue to make a fool of himself. He was on public property and he had the right to assemble, so there was not one thing I could do. People came in telling me I should go tell him to take a hike, but I said I couldn't - it's his right. Maybe I should have directed him to Hart Plaza so he could see the Cadillac landing statue and maker. Or better yet, I should have had a costumed Frenchman go give a piece of birthday cake.

I must have had a bad experience on the boat I used to go out on in junior high. Now they leave me claustrophobic and bitchy. But put me in an environment that thoroughly makes me uncomfortable and I might act that way anyway. Defence mechanism. I went to high school with those people. The social class rift between us and them is something that not many people can ever recover from. Boats from your house is fine - if a waterfront or canal is so fortunate...marinas or whatever they are called are expensive campgrounds and not my cup of tea. Apologies to anyone reading this who knows exactly what I am talking about. Exhaustion does a funny thing to people - it makes them even more unbearable bitches than they are normally.

Apparently my away messages no longer apply meaning to those on my buddy list or at least those closest to me - my boyfriend thinks that my excuses are no longer vaild and my brother, who was so kind as to say this: "no i will not leave you alone. i am a paying customer and you are my on call manager. the museum was cool today i had a lot of fun". At least one of those is funny.

But don't mind me, I already explained some side effects of pure and utter exhaustion. Don't add that I have to quit my job this week and break my manager's heart, that I don't even recognize myself anymore, and that I have no time to even process all that's going through my head right now. But what do I know, my excuses are lame and not good enough anymore. Perhaps I should brush up on them in my spare time.