I feel so overwelmed, not enough of me to go around. I'm losing my hold on sanity. I'm slipping into a daily grind that I don't like at all. I'm afraid of failure in my current employment positions. My job seems to entail more and more everyday. When do they realize I'm only one man, multi-tasking multi-tasking. The last straw is about to be placed on the wagon. How do I say I've had enough without being fired? What do I have to do to convince myself I won't be fired? Why do I continually worry? My stress and aggravation factor have reached an all time high. Life isn't supposed to be this hard. I'm surrounded by people who love me at home, yet surrounded by people who pull on me all day at work. I feel stressed.
I love my wife and family, if not for them, I would've lost it by now. My newest son Jimmy can't wait to see dad when he gets home from work. Last night he just sits on my lap and buries his head against me. So adorable.
Sorry if I brought you all down, that isn't my intensions, I'm just trying to feel better. It isn't working, but I'm trying.

I love my wife and family, if not for them, I would've lost it by now. My newest son Jimmy can't wait to see dad when he gets home from work. Last night he just sits on my lap and buries his head against me. So adorable.
Sorry if I brought you all down, that isn't my intensions, I'm just trying to feel better. It isn't working, but I'm trying.
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There are no other Datsuns in my life right now (the boy drives american cars - he's got a '76 Camaro and a couple of ford trucks), but I went to a prom in high school in a 510, and in 1999, my ex-boyfriend and I sent his mechanic father down to SoCal to help us buy a '71 240. It was beautiful, deep turquoise with a body kit. We spent $4500, and four days later, the brakes failed going about 8mph, the car jumped a curb, and the frame rail (which had rusted because the car had been on the beach for 20 years) ripped off the car. we used the car for parts, but basically it cost us over $1000 per day to own the damn thing. My ex was devastated, but his dad and I spent $1200 on a '77 280 that didn't run, and swapped the heads to get the thing rolling. It was black, and dinged all over. It is the car that I now own. (When we broke up, the ex said he was getting a Camaro, so I bought the car a second time...)