So it’s been awhile.
There was grading and headaches and a cold and the second job and a shitty mood and oh oh oh so much anxiety about. . . grading and headaches and a cold and the second job and a shitty mood. . . and you can see where this goes.
I was twisting the screw of the vice grips.
C. helped me untwist it and, without a recap of that conversation in which I went over and over what was wrong I can tell you that she said, patiently and firmly and repeatedly: You have to quit that job.
And so I quit that job—well, put in my notice; I’m done at the end of May.
It took almost two days after for me to unwind, for my chest to stopped feeling squeezed and for me to take a breath without having to remind myself to breathe.
It was the right decision, although I feel badly about it; I feel badly about it, although it was the right decision.
It just wasn’t the right job.
AbsurdBeats 
glad you have some local untwisting kind of help at hand and that you are giving yourself a break before you got broken.
Thanks for that, dmf. I worried over quitting this job—last year’s financial disaster is imprinted on me—but at some point the cost was more than the paycheck.
And hey, drop me a line, let me know how you’re doing. . . .