Quelling the inner activist

DJ is stressing me out. I can feel it in my neck, even my hands were aching from gripping the mouse too tight. I don't think it's something I can correct with ergonomic chairs or soft grip pens. There's serious drama going down and I can't even really blog about it because I can't afford to have the powers-that-be read this.

And that just sucks because I like freedom. But I like my paycheck too.

So I'm choosing to shut my mouth and go with the program because I have to think about my future and my family. They depend on me. But I need me too. I need the me who is free, respects herself and calls it like it is. So because I can't have that and I have this conflict between my values and how I'm living, I'm even more stressed. I guess I'll just sit here and feed my inner activist peach sorbet, watch the idiot box and lose myself in my writing. Maybe someday that'll give me a less conscience-laden paycheck.