After eleven days off around Christmas, I worked three days last week. Boy how I would love to work only three days a week. With the same paycheck I get now of course.
Sundays are not my favorite day of the week, and today was an extra struggle. Tomorrow is my first Monday, the beginning of my first five day week, in two weeks. I have had a sense of dread all day long. I really hate that out of my two days off, I spend one of them stressed out and feeling cranky because all I can think about is how I’m not ready for the weekend to be over and I’m so exhausted and I don’t want to go back to work. It effectively slashes my time off in half because I can’t just relax and not think about work.
The dumb thing is I’m almost always fine once I get to work and get moving. And then I wonder what the heck I was so wound up about. Sometimes I think I might be better off if I never took any time off, even weekends.
Also, I realized about three hours ago that I forgot to take my anti-anxiety medication this morning. So I took some. And you know what? I feel better. A lot better. I guess that stuff actually works sometimes. Now if it would just work that well ALL the time, that would be all kinds of awesome.
I’m such a mess.