I was feverishly pounding out a blog post on the train this morning but when I went back to re-read my words, I realized that I couldn't post it without placing my career in jeopardy. Don't bite the hand that feeds you and your family, right? So I'll just say this: I need a break. I'm drained. Burnt out. At wit's end. I don't need another job. I need a break. I don't want to do anything. I don't want a photography business. I don't want a sew shop. I want all of this stress off of my shoulders. I want nothing.
Not going to happen.
That first full week in January, I worked seven days straight. Sunday through Saturday, including Friday, which is usually my day at home. 72 hours. I counted. While that week is busy every year, this year was different. There's a lot that's different. I fell behind at home and my super awesome I'm-going-to-get-this-entire-house-cleaned-and-organized plan was flushed down the toilet and I've temporarily given up. I'm currently working on the girls' Valentine's Day outfits for school instead. That's more fun than cleaning.
The push and pull between work and home is a constant struggle.
There are other factors contributing to my blahness. Winter is at the top of that list. I absolutely hate the cold weather. I enjoy one good snowstorm, as long as it happens over a weekend, and then I'm done with it. Thanks for coming. See ya next year. My commute to work includes a lot of outside time and I just want it to go away.
I hate being grumpy because I know I have it pretty good compared to others. Maybe it's hormones. (Nope, not pregnant. That ship sailed a loooong time ago.) I keep typing and then deleting so I'm just going to post this. Just venting. Keeping it real.