Preface: Sometimes I feel like I do a lot of complaining on my blog, and other times I think I make things sound too fluffy and rose-tinted. I suppose the best way to explain these swings is that I'm a rather emotional person, and I write how I'm feeling. Plain and simple (or flowery and verbose, really).
Last week was what I would charitably call challenging. Yes, in bold. Possibly it should be underlined too, and finished with a bubble exclamation point. And in caps. Just so you really get the idea.
CHALLENGING !
It was made up of crises big and small. All work-related too -- well, other than Teddy's accidents. I blame the 12-14 hour days when I couldn't leave the office, not even for a minute, not even to let my 13-week old puppy outside. I hate days (and weeks!) like that. I cried anytime I wasn't in the office -- during my morning shower, while I was loading the dishwasher, as I tried to fall asleep at night -- because I dreaded going back. By Friday, I was officially, entirely fried.
But Friday evening, a breathtaking sunset cast a fiery glow through the conference room and down our little cubicle row. The flashes and winks of the sun, the softness of the clouds, the stillness of the water where the rivers converge... they all reminded me that hey, life is so much grander than all this.
It really is.
Having a stressful, long, terrible week at work is like stubbing your toe in the big scheme of things. Does it sting a little? Yes. Does it make you want to drop a few choice words? $@#*! yeah. But does it change your toe? Your foot? Your whole body? No. It's a very temporary, fleeting pain.
And so I tried to take my toe bad work week and toss it out the sky-high window. I didn't entirely succeed - I wasn't exactly my most charming self that night. My toe still stung a little bit. But all it needed was some wine ice, and it would be good as new the next day.
A few little treats worked their magic this weekend, and the world looks entirely different now.
I finally had the chance to sit down and indulge in Downton Abbey, and I'm in love. The sunshine was warm and constant. My puppies were finally out in the fresh air. We worked for hours in the backyard, we visited my family. We made time for all our favorite things.
Oh, it was heaven.
I'm trying to hang on to a piece of it -- scratch that, I have a death-grip on the whole thing -- while I start another work week. To remember that the world isn't going to stop spinning if I miss a deadline, and to realize that I'm doing my best. That's all I can do.
The beginning and the end of each day are mine, and I'm reclaiming them. Especially with the longer stretches of sunlight in the evening, the warmer breezes, the books and TV shows and movies I love. The husband and dogs that I adore. Once in awhile other things get pushed to the forefront and become the priority, but I'm putting those things back in their rightful place now.
I have so many things to do.
There are dogs to enjoy (wet ones, as you can see) -- dogs who are sharing their toys now, who are doing something close to snuggling, who are becoming real friends.
There are walks to be taken with those dogs, through nearby parks with skies streaked by sunsets and trees just starting to show their buds.
There are husbands to love (actually, just one of those) and naps to take. There are dinners to cook and wine begging to be poured. There are things brewing in Downton that I simply must keep an eye on.
So when I go home for the day, I'm going to leave work where it belongs.
Because I'm going to be very busy indeed.