Work reached a new low of lousy today - I have officially been put out to pasture, doing scut work that has nothing to do with my job title or the job of anyone else with my title (or anyone else with my former title, for that matter). It's as though they advertised for a developer, hired me for the job, then said "here's a bucket and a scrub brush, you get to scrub floors every day, for ever. No one else can do this except you; we only allow developers to scrub floors. You are the only developer not currently working on anything important, so you're it." This is never said to me outright, maybe for fear I'll quit; instead, they tell me it's just temporary, until XX time, but as XX time approaches no changes appear to be forthcoming, and the directives become more like "we're, uh, going to need you to go on and do this shit work forever, until we figure out some other way of having it done, which we can't seem to do even though we are a bunch of smart people heading up a soon-to-be-Fortune 500 company."
I spent most of the workday trying to avoid an abject funk. Decided to make rehearsal the fun point of the day (which it should be), but the tired jokes, the disorganization, and my inability to count/play that stupid viola-free boccherini just got under my skin. I got really pissed off at myself, took it out on the conductor, almost caused a repeat of that one awful rehearsal from a while back. So I toned it down and made sure to apologize afterward. Still, I felt like a head case. I should quit that orchestra; I'm sure it would be much more fun for everyone without the constant negativity from the viola section.
That last sentence could be a metaphor.