For good behavior, I guess.
I had expected to work until 4pm, but I was getting a little tired of it all, and it sounded like the supervisor wanted to go home, too, so I took off and headed home.
Not that I got a TON done, but it surely felt like it. The paperwork said I did a lot, but when it came right down to brass tacks, I only got 2 boxes prepped for records center. That's not a lot, considering I have 8 more boxes waiting in the wings for review.
And review I will. They're never "done". It's like dishes in the sink...or cat hair on the floor...you never quite get it all done at any given time. You walk about the house, you find a spoon on the living room floor, or a coffee cup in the car. It's like that.
My husband is apparently still helping his friend move, so the animals and I have the house to ourselves. It's a warm one outside, too, which makes me want to get outdoors and spin, but I have not the energy for it. There's nothing on the television on Saturday (except baseball or football, and I'm no sports fan). I could sit down and get some more knitting done on the scrappy do--but I'm sort of bored with that. I could start the swatch for Catkin, but I'm really not much up to knitting at all today.
I SHOULD do the dishes (or at least clean the kitchen). Hubby left something in the sink, and it's gotten quite a stink to it the last few days. My energy meter is in the red, I think....running on fumes.
So I'm blogging. At least that's something. What I could really use is a couple of glasses of red wine, which I can't have, but it would be nice if I could. Maybe I would take a nap. One thing that's got me wondering is why I am gritting my teeth of late. Actually it's more like my whole jaw is clenched up tighter than Scrooge's purse, and it kept me awake half the night last night (which didn't help keep me focused at the office today, that's for sure). My doctor put me on a lightweight anti-depressant to help with the stress, but I seem to be resolving the stress by clenching my jaw. The end result is my whole head hurts a bit, but my teeth are hurting me, too. I've got one here that I would like to pluck right out if it would make my mouth feel better, but I know it's not the problem. Outwardly, I seem pretty much on top of things. Inwardly, I'm just about catatonic. Just one more thing, and I'm going to explode (or implode, depending on your perspective).
At these times, I'm really glad that I have a blog that I can tell my troubles to now and then. I worry sometimes, that my readers will get tired of my grousing and find fodder elsewhere--it really matters not so much to me, since this is more of a journal for me--and if you enjoy it, be my guest. Laugh and cry along with me if you desire. Commiserate and imbibe of the juice from the vine--in my stead, since I can't. It's okay, perhaps I can live vicariously through you and your drought.
It is nice, once in a while, when people comment, or leave a little bit of encouragement now and then. I do appreciate knowing that someone likes what I have to say. Things like "Never EVER a Mormon in the White House", or "OJ did it. You and I both know it." (giggle), or "We're tired of it, and we're just not going to take it anymore!" (I hope that phrase isn't licensed...) But I like my blog. It's good therapy for me.
I hope you like it too.