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Last night I dreamt that all the 21-year olds in the world were struck by a debilitating disease that manifested itself as large, acne-like bumps on their skins that eventually erupted into itching, bleeding sores that spread all over the body as fast as ants can crawl. Once the body was covered in sores, the brain went next, bleeding out of both ears in gray and red wormlike chunks. As soon as the brain was done slithering out of ear canals, the person struck by the disease would be rendered incapable of speaking in coherent sentences. Then the person would commit beastly atrocities you’d never think any human being could be capable of doing. I can’t remember exactly what these atrocities were, although at some point I do recall feeling so overcome by a sense of horror that I couldn’t move a muscle even though I wanted so badly to scream and run.

I got the disease and I was panicking, crying, desperately searching for a cure because I was so so scared I’d turn into one of those moaning groaning monsters. I ran into my parents’ bedroom to ask for their help and nearly died of shock when I saw that they were covered in the scars from the red boils that once covered their clear, smooth skins. They had blood on their hands.

The disease, I was told, was called Growing Up. And there is no cure for it.

So things haven’t been peachy at work because I find that I am caught in the middle of drama that didn’t involve me to begin with. I’ll admit that I probably made things worse by trying to engage the opposite party in a mature conversation so that we might air out our issues with each other. I was hoping against all hope, and expecting the best out of them despite seeing that these people would be at my throat the first chance they get. Clearly my naive optimism is not yet dead, because had I been more jaded about this I would have known that it’s pointless to try to reason with the irrational. Of course I realized all this way too late. At some point during the confrontation that wasn’t supposed to be a confrontation, I stopped talking, which made me look like a coward. But if they only knew…I was staying so still and so silent because the next words to come out of my mouth would have been a string of incoherent war shrieks and if I had moved a muscle, it would be to push them into the swimming pool and drown them.

I AM SO SICK AND TIRED OF THIS STUPID STUPID SHIT. Not even in the most dramatic of my college moments did things get this STUPID. I say terrible things when I’m angry, but I know when to apologize for it, I know when to lie low, and I don’t aggravate situations by making off-tangent personal attacks. And my friends are mature enough to do the same. I thought that upon graduating from college the same thing would happen should I find myself in a conflict with someone. Looks like I got violently bitchslapped to reality again. Wake the fuck up Lauren! The real world is NOT the nice, rational place you thought it would be!

You know what I find incredibly frustrating about this whole thing? It’s the fact that I have to deal with this like an adult, stay quiet, and lie low. I know that the best thing to do is to ignore ignore ignore, but do you have any idea how difficult that is when they keep rolling their eyes at you or mimicking the way you speak? If I do nothing I’m a coward, but if I stand up for myself I’m a bitch. They’re acting like such children, and I don’t know why I insist on being an adult about this. Why can’t we all just step outside the office and claw at each other with our fingernails until we’re all bruised, bleeding, missing chunks of hair, and too exhausted to fight? Why be a peacemaker when everyone around you is starting a war you didn’t know you were even a part of to begin with?

The shit that’s happening in the office is something I try not to think about because I know if I do, I’m just going to get into a really nasty mood, much like the mood I’m in right now, and write lengthy blog entries filled with run-on sentences. But there are times when I have to confront the issue and now that I’m confronting it, it just makes me feel so fucking helpless. How much more of this stupidity can I take? These days I can’t even take a cigarette break or go to the goddamn restroom without having someone with me, simply because I’d like to have some back-up should I run into the other party. Because chances are, if they see me alone, they’ll probably start shit. And I hate that, I hate that I get paranoid about running into them, I hate that I don’t know if I should back down or step up if they do start something. I hate that I have to deal with this in the workplace because I am there to goddamn WORK and not deal with this stupid drama THAT DIDN’T EVEN INVOLVE ME IN THE FIRST PLACE.

I am so angry and so goddamn tired. I suppose the only good thing about all this is that I’m angry and tired now, so in the morning I can deal with all of this with a clear head and come up with a logical solution. Would it be too much to hope that tomorrow will be quiet, normal, and drama-free?