Sometimes only a strop will do

Work for me just lately is a constant niggle. It's not something I am accustomed to and I don't like it. For over 7 years I have been very lucky to have been in a position where I have loved my job and not minded going to work at all. Towards the beginning of this year this all changed. Austerity cuts to the fire service have meant a rocky ride for myself and my colleagues and I found myself having to justify my role, being interviewed for my own job and being compulsory transferred from the fire station where I worked to the corporate headquarters. It has not been easy. I know I should be grateful I still have a job when others don't but still I am finding it increasingly difficult.
The work should be fundamentally the same but in reality it's poles apart and the very bones of my old role, the stuff I really loved and that really challenged me has gone. These days the challenges are of a different kind and I begin to question whether its time for another change. I don't have a problem with change generally but it needs to have a good rationale behind it and all this just doesn't.
Last week on my first day back at work after holidays I found myself feeling very out of sorts. Office politics plus the organisations tendency to bend rules to suit them driving my stress levels high up the Gail force scale.
All I wanted was my own desk, not much to ask in a building which is littered with empty desks and sections you would think. My own little space to call my own after being uprooted from my little station world where I was more or less queen, somewhere I could adapt to my lefthandedness, an oasis of calm to come to after the hellish commute with its increased diesel bills, road rage and tripling of my journey time. A little niche within my team which incidentally now includes someone who has no admin experience but has been given the job anyway when other colleagues have been displaced or left. I digress.
So it came to be that I got a strop on. Now in the general scheme of things my strops aren't huge but their rarity makes them somehow more potent. I hate feeling this way and I also hate that it sounds to others that I am always moaning and being negative which goes against my very grain. It's all very wearing and counterproductive. Anyway up a strop it was and I think more by luck than judgement on this occasion I got my own way and I do currently have my own desk. A small battle in what has increasingly felt like a war. The only problem is now I have it, it doesn't seem as important now as it it did and I am left looking again at the reality of my new circumstances and having to decide what steps to take next. Hmmm