I'm not giving my parking pass back

Sunday night was the Championship game for Co-ed Outdoor. It was a rough one, I got up-ended three times, fairly hard. At least they didn't go after my teammates. The last time we played these guys, Jay (our best player) got angry (he's always otherwise been extremely calm about everything, so I've seen), and subbed himself off for the rest of the game. I didn't blame him at all, that same night I got a scar on the side of my eye, shown here.

At another point, a pal of mine, David, got in a small shoving match with the guy who gave me the scar, but it subsided fairly quickly. Derek, our 6'8 taciturn goalie, who's always really for a fistfight, almost jumped from across the entire pitch, but it ended a little too fast for him. That's most likely a good thing, because in spite of the eight inches he has on me, very little of that converts to weight.

We won 3-0. The first goal was a corner kick that was deflected into their own net by an over-zealous defender for an own goal, the second was a break away of mine that skipped off my foot weirdly and went into top-right corner off the crossbar. Jay scored the third. I played forward/centre mid.

Monday I had a outdoor-indoor double header with my mens team. We lost both, but in the outdoor game I played all over and sombrero'd somebody yet again. I managed to set up some plays when I moved into attack, but my team still wasn't able to get it going. I also nutmeg'd a ton of people. Perhaps not a ton, but two or three on the night, anyways. Possibly a half-ton of people.

Job rant imminent. Skip next few paragraphs.

Oh, and I got fired from my moderately alright day job with the government. I really didn't mind the job, but the people I worked with were... A little mean, to put it nicely. In particular, one just always seemed to say the snarkiest of comments, constantly managed to insult me, among other things. She was the meanest person I'd ever met. I keep telling myself not to stoop to her level by mentioning her name here, and it's working well, I suppose, as I haven't mentioned her name. It just makes you wonder when, if ever, people get what they have coming to them. Their exact reason for firing me was "my heart wasn't in it". I'm leaning more towards "conspired upon" myself.

One of my lovely pictures from the office. Please note face.

Apparently, certainty word has it that some of those lovely office politicos were talking behind my back, as well. The aforementioned bitchiest of the bunch came up to me a week or so ago and told me that everybody was getting annoyed with the questions I was asking, throwing in an "including me" when she had the chance.

Right now my confidence is incredibly poor. At the very least, I have another job waiting in the wings; my previous engagement at the university bookstore with considerably better people. I'm moderately glad that I didn't stick around for the two weeks offered as right now two of six intake people are on holidays, not including my permanent holiday. Have fun, intake aficionados.

But still, I can't get this creeping sense of ineptitude (along with a slight paranoia that everybody who hears this thinks I'm not giving the whole story) out of my head. Compounded with other problems, simply "not feeling well" about the whole ordeal is a grotesque understatement. I need another drink.