This is why I drink...not the song, but what's after that.

“Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, help me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.”

So yeah, you all know I have a thing for liturgical music, and that’s why. There’s nothing I could come up with that better describes how I’m feeling right now. I don’t know if it’s a lack of planning on my part, or if I’m just not good enough at what I do to do it quickly, or if I can’t say no to people and so I’m taking on too much, or yes to all three, but I am worn. I worked a 12 hour day yesterday and then overslept this morning. My back hurts, I’m starting to get cramps in my traps, even though I tell myself a couple of times a day to relax. I think I’m carrying my worry in my shoulders these days.

I’m still happy, I still enjoy my work, but I just want to do it better. I don’t want my boss to wonder if he picked the right person for the job, and I’m doing a lot of things right, but I’m still doing some things wrong and you all know how much I hate that. I just…can’t seem to get it right on some things, and of course, those are the important things. And all I want to do is finish one day knowing that I got everything done that needed to get done. Not telling someone that their project isn’t ready because there aren’t enough hours in the day to get everything in when it’s supposed to be.

Mostly, the posters last week completely threw off my groove—I didn’t have a ton of time to spare, but I had enough for a little leeway, and then 20 hours of poster meetings and work happened, and all my lag time went and then some. And oh, by the way, let’s move into a new apartment (which I love, btw).and try to find stuff and discover that we don’t have pans and buy them five minutes before the first dinner guest comes over. That’s right, we. The Precious Bi’quit (the fake, purring, breathing cat that my grands bought me last Christmas) is sitting in the recliner while we watch Bobby Flay get his ass kicked in another throw down, and I try to rev myself up for another two hours’ work before I can go to bed.

Much as I enjoy complaining, though, I really can’t complain too much, because I have a good job, a good raise, great benefits, and OT, which is so much more than I thought I would have at 25. I’m blessed, and now I just have to learn to labor with grace. Until then, it’s champagne Thursdays every day of the week.

Went to Weigh Watchers today…down 4.6 lbs, for a total of 29.2 since last March. I’m within 3 lbs of my summer weight, and I have lost my Christmas weight. Onward and downward!

It's a New Day, It's A New Dawn, It's a New Life

And I'm feeling good.

It's more than a Buble song; it's my new approach to life. No, seriously, it is. No matter how much a particular day sucks (and let's face it: as much good as there is in my life, sucking is relative) the next day is new and inherently good. Goodness being an inherent quality, it therefore doesn't depend on anyone else. Whether I'm with someone, pursuing someone, or eating dinner alone on a Friday, the day is still good if I let it be. My happiness, then, is a function of my ability to see that goodness, and to actively seek it out.

So there you go. Weighing in on Tuesday; the battle against the polar bear begins in earnest.