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You know how sometimes, there are issues in life that you know you should deal with, that you really need to deal with or think about or analyze or come to some decision about? But instead, you push those things to the back of your consciousness and try to forget about them and pretend they don’t exist and everything will be fine forever, and really, why worry yourself over stuff like that?

Yeah, I feel like there are more and more of those things surrounding me every day. And I’m just all “la la la I don’t hear you” about them. I think this is why, in spite of the fact that I do almost nothing at work right now, I still feel like I need a vacation (that I can’t afford).

Also, I feel like there’s just nothing for me to look forward to right now, both personally, and in a broader sense. Some might say I have the classic symptoms of depression going. Others would call me “a realist.” I’m not sure what I could call myself (other than being in denial). Maybe “a depressed (and depressing) realist.”

I suspect this is what starts many otherwise reasonable people down the road to a drinking problem.

OK maybe it’s not quite another ice age, but it feels like an ice age in my brain and my soul, and everywhere else that counts for me. I want warm weather so badly I can taste it, it tastes like desperation and that really doesn’t taste very good. Every day, in my closet, I stare longingly at my cute sandals and peep-toe shoes, my light summery tops in pastel colors, my adorable cotton batik-print skirts, my of-the-moment (but not for much longer) maxi dresses. Then I sigh, and put on jeans and boots and a sweater, or heavy tights and boots and a skirt and a sweater, or yoga pants and a fleece sweatshirt, or…well, you get the idea.

I’ve definitely gotten spoiled since moving to Virginia from Ohio. Back in the good ol’ Midwest, it was winter until after Tax Day. Hell, the year we moved down here (1999), I believe it was right around April 15, and there was still snow on the ground in Ohio. Suddenly we crossed the border into Virginia and it was GREEN, oh so GREEN everywhere, and that’s when I knew I’d probably never move back to Ohio. Now that I’ve lived here for 10 freaking years, I’m used to Spring arriving in March. We’ve had the odd 70-some degree day, and they’re horrible teases, just getting me excited for nothing. Naturally there was a blizzard on March 1 this year, but that’s not really typical. At all.

My longing for warmth is complicated by the way my biological clock seems to be completely f***ed ever since Daylight Savings Time arrived. Lately, I can’t sleep at all. I go to bed at 11pm, 10pm, sometimes as early as 9, and I lay there, completely unable to sleep. I usually lie awake until 2am or 3am, then I finally doze off just to wake at 7:30, thanks to our toddler alarm clock. Or sometimes I fall asleep some time after midnight, only to wake up at 4:30, unable to go back to sleep. This has only been happening severely since DST started, so that’s what I’m blaming, though to be honest my sleep hasn’t been very satisfying for the last few months.

I think I have decided, after WebMD-diagnosing myself, that my problems are thus:

1. A mean case of cabin fever that has escalated into Seasonal Affective Disorder.

2. Fibromyalgia, which I used to suffer from regularly, but had improved in the last few years, making a comeback thanks to poor sleep patterns.

3. Body clock and sleep cycle somewhat screwed over by switch to DST, but also complicated by the above, and also by…

4. Peri-menopause. In other words, I’m only 41, but my body has decided to get a head start on menopausal symptoms, specifically night sweats, hot flashes, and insomnia.

Or maybe I have an anxiety disorder. Hey! Who knows? I have resolved to address these problems by:

1. Ordering a light therapy device which will hopefully help with the SAD and the internal clock problem.

2. Making an appointment with my doctor to yell at her for telling me I was too young to be having hot flashes already, and for God’s sake shouldn’t being on The Pill help with this and if not, for the love of all that is good and holy can she please give me something to help?!?!?

Like maybe Prozac.

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Above is a map of the worst Starbuck’s in…well, in my life at least. I hate this location. Why? Part of it stems from bitterness, because this USED to be a really good Starbuck’s. But that was a good three or four years ago. Since then, they have transferred out all of the good employees (I’ve actually seen some of them at other locations). What remains are the brain-dead Starbucks employees. The slowest baristas, the most gossipy and inefficient cashiers, the messiest store…the WORST.

I have published the location here, as a public service. Avoid this Starbuck’s if you value your sanity! And just go across the street, to the Starbuck’s inside Target. It’s 100% better.

It’s all over the news that AIG is planning to pay tens of millions of dollars in bonuses this week, despite receiving a bailout from the government and being exposed as a house of cards in an already-flimsy financial services market. (AIG, which should have been a relatively safe business, decided to get cocky and do a bunch of risky investment thingies, using their AAA credit rating to get away with shit that nobody should really be able to get away with – and as a result, nearly went out of business.) I won’t even link to all the stories, they’re everywhere. Just go to the Washington Post or the Huffington Post or the Daily Kos or whatever.

People continue to act shocked and surprised that companies like AIG think that their employees still deserve bonuses. AIG told Treasury Secretary, Tim Geithner, that they simply had to pay these bonuses, for two reasons:

1. They were agreed to before the bailout and the firm would risk being sued for violating employment contracts if they were not paid.

2. AIG needs to be able to pay these bonuses so they can “attract and retain the best and brightest” to ensure the company’s success.

Yeah. Choke on that for a minute.

So, “best and brightest,” huh? Is that what you call the douchebags that almost drove AIG out of business in the first place? The brilliant minds that okayed the risky investment strategies and crazy financial manipulation that necessitated their eventual government bailout? And those same tools won’t stay with AIG if they don’t get their bonuses?

LET. THEM. LEAVE.

Of course that won’t happen, and that’s not really what I wanted to address anyway. My point is, why do people think they’re entitled to bonuses in a year when their company nearly went out of business? And not just at AIG, but at Merrill Lynch and Wells Fargo and all the other banks and brokerages teetering on the brink?

OK, it’s a trick question. I actually know why. It’s called entitlement. All those people think they’re entitled to a bonus, simply for doing their jobs. Bonuses have kind of lost their meaning, especially in financial services, but to some degree in all fields. It used to be that you got a bonus when you did something extraordinary, somehow went above and beyond expectations, or exhibited leadership or effort that set you apart from your fellow employees. In other words, a bonus used to be a reward, but that’s changed. At a certain level in the company hierarchy, bonuses are expected, no matter how the company performs. It’s like, hey, I showed up most of the time this year, now give me my bonus!

It’s not just confined to middle and upper management, though. This is the same pervasive attitude that explains why most employees expect a generous raise every year, no matter what. At every company where I’ve worked, even the weakest (some might say most useless) employees expected an annual increase well above cost-of-living adjustments, simply for showing up every day. This is why performance management is, in most cases, a complete joke, at least in my industry (IT). Mediocrity reigns supreme.

And those twatwaffles at AIG, that are counting on their precious bonuses? They should just be happy to have jobs right now. If Geithner called me up and put me in charge of AIG, I’d fire all their lame asses, and start over again. And he wouldn’t need to pay me a bonus to do it.

I watched my usual Battlestar Galactica on Friday night, though I was caught up in some online research when it first aired (1opm EDT) and didn’t catch it until the re-air at midnight. It was excellent, as usual, and I find that I’m more and more sorry that it’s going to be over soon. I could go on at length about why this show is so frakking awesome (heh, BSG joke there), but that would take more time and energy than I have right now. I’ll just say one thing that constantly amazes me – Grace Park. How does she play all the various model 8 cylons so differently? After a while you forget that it’s the same person playing Boomer, and Athena, and all the others, she’s just that good.

I did not watch Dollhouse and completely forgot about it until today, so I watched it on Hulu this afternoon. I’m still feeling very meh about Dollhouse. Even though next week is the episode (sixth of the season) that supposedly gets really good, and shows us the brilliance we’ve come to expect from Whedon, I can’t say that I’m terribly optimistic. For one thing, I have a tremendous problem with the cast – I find them ALL very annoying. I am not a fan of Eliza Dushku, even as Faith on Buffy; the dude who plays Topher is just over-the-top trying too hard; the boss lady character and her head of security (with a grudge, of course) are irritating. About the only characters I can stomach are Amy Acker as the doctor and Harry Lennix as Echo’s handler, and even then, only just barely. So yeah, I’m waiting for that show to get good, but I’m about ready to give up on it.

Tomorrow night there’s Big Love, which has been surprisingly, consistently awesome this season. But I think there are only two new episodes left in said season, and that’s depressing. I guess I’ve got True Blood to look forward to this summer?