Things I learned in January

I suffer from post-traumatic stress amnesia every year apparently. I never ever remember just how bad year end is. January starts and the work cranks up and all of that other stuff (my life) that I think I can just keep participating in becomes the extra stuff that stresses me out because there is so much work to do.

That is not cool.

As the month goes on, I start to miss classes and meetings.

I come in to those I don't miss with clinched teeth and a face weary from stress.

I eat dinner late because I get home late and I stay up too late because I have to wind down and that doesn't happen quickly.

I'm tired because I stay up too late.

The dance teacher sees my daughter more than I do.

I never see the dance teacher, my friend.

I feel torn when I spend time with my husband alone because I haven't seen the kids all week either.

Not a single picture of my family gets taken by my real camera.

None of the pictures I do take are inspiring or worth sharing save for those from the one trip to the gardens that I squeak into the middle of one working Saturday.

I work every Saturday.

All day.

I miss funerals.

I fail to send sympathy cards.

I find that what I'm able to muster up appreciation for at the end of each day in my gratitude journal is likely food or drink.

I start to make decisions from the bed about whether or not I just need to go ahead and get to my desk instead of working out.

This year I actually start to decide to get to my desk instead of working out. Frequently.

And, then, to finish it off with a punch in the gut: my evaluation. Actually delivered to me a day late on February 1st. So, I guess that might be for another blog post altogether.

One I'll never publish lest I end up dooce'd.