Nothing to say except that I spent today angry. I don't know why. I was feeling angry last night, and then I sort of chilled out, but then I woke up and I was angry again.
Being angry all day when you've got a job like mine is very uncomfortable. You need to be very calm to cope with it, to lull yourself into a state of placidity. If you're in a bad mood there's nothing in your work to distract you from those feelings; they just run rampant.
So there was nothing I could do except be angry, all day long. Angry because I'm still working for five pounds an hour, angry at the fact that my entire job seems to consist of creating pure trash, angry because I've worked so hard to learn, to move, to better myself, and yet the only use the world seems to have for me is to do those jobs too fragmented for a robot, angry at the news on the TV, angry at the women's magazines in the staffroom, angry at everything and everyone. And it wouldn't stop.
Then they told me I didn't have to come in tomorrow because they've no work. No work for the rest of the week, and probably no work until the middle of next week. And so I'm still angry.
I submitted a story today, to a webzine. There's no way are they're ever going to accept it (they're much too classy for me) but at least I sent it out.