August 3, 2006, 4:11 pm
I'm having one of those days -- you know the kind of day that starts off with opening up a nearly-done 36-page magazine to find that all the images have mysteriously disappeared overnight.

More mini-disasters followed -- a few computer crashes, tedious tasks that HAD to be taken care of immediately and then, the inability to print the aformentioned magazine on any of the 1,532 printers in the building -- despite the 8 computer guys trying to "help."

My morning culminated with that most humiliating of female office frustration relief — tears.

God, how I hate to cry at work. But, I'm a girl and sometimes i just can't help it. I work in a deadline-driven environment and sometimes the pressure is just too much.

Frustration mounts and aggravation builds and the tears begin to well up. No matter how hard I try, I can't stop it once it's started. The tears spill out -- where else are they to go?

I've decided that maybe it's a good thing -- it always makes me feel better and, really, it's better than throwing a mantrum (man tantrum) like some grown men here do when things aren't going their way.

Still....there is some part of me that feels like an overgrown four-year-old when it happens. Like some silly little girl who can't handle the real world.

Or, maybe I'm just an overextended, overly-tired overachiever who needs a vacation.

And a box of Kleenex.

And another copyeditor.

And a printer that works.

And a raise.

That's all I need.