Ugh.

DH has been on call all weekend for his job in the medical profession. His place of work called him at least 3 times during each day, and at least once each night, waking us both from sound sleep. After each call, it took me at least 30-45 minutes to get back to sleep.

Consequently, I'm going into what's going to be a heavy (and early) work day more than a little sleep deprived. Add to that the fact that the cat has just yarfed all over the house (three times!!), and I'm cranky, to boot.

Even if Mondays didn't exist, the first day of the work week would still kick our collective asses.

(/rant)

How else could it be?

The first day of spring, and it's snowing.

Welcome to Wisconsin.

Time to hunker down with a cup of tea and some contest entries and hope this shizzle melts by Monday.

Have a good weekend, everyone!

Better.

My back is feeling better; it's not 100% yet, but I'm no longer white-faced with pain. The weather is gorgeous; the cat is a purring bundle of happiness on her sun-drenched perch in our bedroom. I just finished ordering my DH's birthday presents, and I actually managed to find some things he did NOT suggest. Speaking of DH, he just came home from shopping and brought me a new bottle of hot pink, very spring-tastic nail polish.

And I'm working on not one, but TWO fun stories.

A better weekend all the way around.

Oy. What a week!

I'm not sure how it got to be Saturday. Last time I looked, it was Monday...wasn't it?

This week at work we started parallel testing for the big project I'm working on. Talk about stress! Long hours, overtime, things going wrong, things going right, things going wrong again...oy.

I am, however, very glad to find it's Saturday. I can stay in my jammies, give lap time to my kitty, Princess Tortuga, read, write - in short, do anything my little heart desires.

And tomorrow, I get to meet up with my lovely and fabulous wellness-challenged writers.

I love weekends.

Sleep = Made of Win

Have I mentioned how awesome sleep is? I'd almost forgotten, 'cause this past week I got precious little of it, what with either dreaming about work or laying awake in the small dark hours, worrying if the previous day's problems with this new electronic process had been fixed yet.

My husband tells me I obsess too much about things I can't control. He's right. And I'm really trying to correct that.

In the meantime, I intend to pamper myself this weekend. Like I said in my last post, I have absolutely no intention of getting out of my jammies today. Except to work out. But after I shower, it's back into the embrace of comfy fleece. There will also be much nappage. Yeah, it's a slug's life, but after the week I've had, I feel absolutely zero guilt about spending the weekend in first gear.

I'm off now for more tea, and the first decent breakfast I've had all week. About bloody time.

Anyone Get the License Plate of That Truck?

You know, the one that ran me over. Oh, wait a minute - that wasn't a truck. It only felt like it.

Last week I trained a small set of co-workers to perform a new electronic task. This week that task went live; I had to go in to the office early every day (up at 4:30, in the office by 6:45) to provide more detailed, on-the-spot training and to serve as emergency backup. We encountered a couple of rough spots early in the week, but things eventually settled down and my co-workers started to feel comfortable with the new process.

Thank goodness. 'Cause any more of this and I'd be dead on my feet. As it is, I'm only mostly dead. Ugh. I hate feeling like this - drained, cranky, listless.

I know how I'm going to spend *my* weekend - in my pyjamas!

Working for the Weekend

Last night I was seriously bummed. Not unusual for a Sunday evening. The end of the weekend, the end of doing whatever the heck you want, and the beginning of another work week. And then it hit me: why am I assigning meaning to only two days out of the week? That implies that I'm living in a void the other 261 days of the year.

Scary thought.

In our society it's ingrained in us from an early age that work/school is something you're supposed to do, but not necessarily like. That weekends are fun time, free time, your time. But I don't dislike my job; in fact, I like it very much. I come home tired, yes, but with a sense of accomplishment. So why do I feel like my weekends are the only days that matter? This is not just my own conundrum; in reading books on Buddhism, I've come to realize this is a common problem. I really don't like the idea that only my weekends are meaningful because those are the days I get to write, spend quality time with my husband, and read to my heart's content. My weekdays have meaning, too - I just need to find it and make it a greater priority.

Hmmm. I need to think more about this.