These past few weeks have been tough. This is probably one of those times when I should censor myself, but I'm too tired and have let my guard down. My mouth has been running all over the place.
Basically I've been working too much. The series of 9, 10, 11, 12 hour days in too rapid succession is taking its toll and I'm teetering. It has gotten to the point where gathering breakfast is very difficult and confusing. ...even on weekends when the only option is a bowl of grapenuts. Walking through the hall feels like I'm towing a cart of bricks. The brain, my source of constant entertainment, has been eerily quiet.
Something needs to be done about it. I need to do something about it. I've probably been a little Too open with the "feedback" to my manager about how they need to start fixing stuff or we're (read: I'm) going to burn out. I seem to be the farthest along on that front. Silly me decided at some point that I wanted to be promoted before my retirement, which is threatening to come sooner and sooner.
All I know is, watching Heima, the thought of my hands buried in Icelandic dirt is absolutely blissful and right-feeling.
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