Things are crazy at Camp Paysthebills. So crazy, because - well, there's this iconic piece of performing art set to the music of one Mr. Tchaikovsky, featuring rats and crazy dolls and sugar plum fairies.
And it runs for pretty much the entire month of December.
Given that I could probably work from 7 AM until 8 PM every single day, seven days a week, and not run out of things to do, I'm feeling a little burned out. So to avoid going all Jack in the Shining on you and everyone else I love/tolerate/am forced to see on a regular basis, I took today and Monday off before I leave for almost a week in wonderful snowy Edmonton.
I have a gross amount of overtime in lieu, but anyone that works in a kind of organization that actually allows you to bank excessive amounts of overtime (one of my coworkers has SIX WEEKS worth of time banked) realizes that it's incredibly difficult to ever take that much time off, particularly when you're sort of a workaholic/control freak.
So here I am. 7:30 AM on my Friday off. Freaking out, resisting the urge to call the office, pick up my voicemail, check my work email. I'm up way earlier than I get up on a normal workday.
This always happens when I take days off. Woe. Woe is me.
2 days ago