I could sit here write and re-write this stupid slide presentation
a hundred fucking time and it will never be good enough.  His name
is Quyen and sometimes I feel that he isn't sure what he's doing.
He's got me so turned around with writing a simple presentation that 
I can't write a single sentence without think how his going to 
criditize my work.  I feel like I all this time and effort into my
work and it gets re-write with Quyen input and by the time Tom
sees the work, he tells me to put it back to the original.  I enjoy
working in the AMT group but I can't remember the last time say, 
"Good Job."  I still can't understand how -- fuck this shit....
I keep telling myself to have a drink but I don't want one.  I
can't trust my co-worker because he tells Quyen everything.  

Sometime I feel that my dyslexia is frustrating me, but it's 
not my work that's the problem.  It's being appriated for it.  
I can only swallow my pride so much, before I get frustrated.