Self Indulged Ranting?

Third to last day of work. I feel/felt like I was going to cry about 10 minutes ago, that feeling rushing over of having done every single thing for the past 23 years wrong.... having somehow really fucked everything up. But then it passed, unrelated, I think to the end of work.
I don't do work anymore. I went to the doctor this morning: got blood drawn, shot up with tetanus and prescribed for malaria. There is a lot I could be doing during this half day and last week I was working really hard. I think I have more internal drive than I thought. Work, here, they set up with absolutely no incentive to do anything. Not only do I not like any of them (keeping me from having some kind of personal obligation) but after one of the partners told me I am ill-suited to the law because of my over-sensitivity... there was no longer any motivation to impress for recommendation's sake. And so the basket of stuff sitting outside David's office waiting for me will not get done. Because, well, I despise him. And maybe that's because I am hyper-sensitive. Or maybe because he's an ass.
My regular doctor is on maternity leave and I had a new one. She was brusque but seemed to know what she was doing. I don't like to talk a lot at the doctor, but this is why it irks me when they interrupt me. She listened to some guy in the hallway go on and on about one co-pay versus another while I waited (for 45 minutes! 1.5 People magazines!) inside. When she came in, she interrupted me before I could show her my immunization card. Which, you know, might be useful in determining which immunizations I've had.
It's confirmed that I am in the midst of a quarterlife crisis. If I could afford/had use for a convertible, I'd have proof.