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Kissing Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream.

7 Mar

The title above comes from a song I’ve happily quoted to death.

Related to that song, it was quite the Monday.

I was caught having a conversation with myself in the hallway today. Yeah. Full on conversation. Provide an explanation? Sure. I’m going nuts.

This job is making me crazy. Seriously. It’s all-consuming, it’s stressful, it’s all-consuming, it’s stressful…

I mean, I’m not performing heart surgery or anything, but good night, Irene, this place is taking over my life. I’ve always been someone who leaves work where it should remain: inside the building. In a way, I still am that person. When I vacate the premises, I truly vacate. Work shmork. It’s over and out for the day, blissfully kaput, done.

…However, of late, I find myself thinking too much about the premises and what needs to be done. Most of the time, it’s quite a bit that needs to be done. And a million things to remember. And silly questions pointed in my direction. (The meeting is at 4pm. The capable clock on your computer tells you that it’s 4pm. You get a reminder that the meeting is at 4pm. Yet…you ask me if the meeting is at 4pm? Huh?) And thousands of e-mails. And…and…Perhaps this is why I was discovered in the middle of a conversation with myself today. Perhaps.

Solutions? In the short term, I resolve to keep all conversations inside my comfortable head and get up from my desk for plenty of clear-the-mind and take-deep-breath walks around the building.

Until I attain a semblance of sanity, I will totally pretend that I’m singing if someone catches me talking to myself again. Totally.

The Weekender

28 Jan

It’s just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
‘Cause that’s my funday
My I don’t have to runday
It’s just another manic Monday

They said it best, didn’t they?

I’ve discovered that I have a love/hate relationship with those two days called the weekend.

The weekend can be lovely. Saturday allows me to take care of errands and meet with friends and go to the movies–all the things I don’t get to do during the long week. Sunday allows me to wind down a bit, relax, sit down on the couch and catch up with the latest laugh-fest on the Lifetime Movie Network. (How can one woman not realize that the villain is inside THE DARK BEDROOM? Hello?) It’s a delightful combination, those two days.

It only lasts two days. Two days. And then Monday rolls around like a typhoon, as if Saturday and Sunday never manifested themselves! It’s not right. The government needs to…they need to fix it. Just like they commandeered daylight savings time. Because they control when the sun ascends and descends. Right. Never mind.

More Hate
It’s not fair. The weekend does this thing: you’re getting into the groove, you’re taking naps, starting to love the freedom of it all–and then kaput. Over. Just like that. Biggest letdown ever.

And so it’s Monday. The week has returned and the vicious cycle begins anew. Thank goodness for carbohydrates. They never disappoint me.



Sincerely, Taj

Dear World, I have stuff to say, so get cozy. Here, I've got cupcakes.

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