I'm so tired.

It's been a little rough at the day-job for the past few months folks, and this cookie is pretty darned beat. The lapses in between posts a few weeks ago are a side-effect of all this fatigue. I've done better with frequency, but it feels like content-lite to me.

I punch in at the day-job and do my thing. It's draining. I come home and eat my supper with m, clean up a bit and then go to the gym if I am being a good girl and then back home again for a shower and then it's time for bed. I have the nagging suspicion that someone is stealing hours out of my day, but I haven't been able to put together a convincing argument to back up my claim (if only I had a little more time in my day for the research...).

Work is hard. I feel like I spend my days chasing something, doing things over again, doing things that someone else will do over again, grumbling at the inefficiency of the system, making lists that never get accomplished, stacking piles on top of piles, chasing and chasing. The work is just the work. I guess the hard part is the people. I work in an atypical corporate setting where I have about a dozen people that I supervise, but only two individuals that I would call my co-workers (in the traditional sense of the word; you know, the watercooler folks, the ones you might go to lunch with or have drinks with after punching out). There should be two, but lately there's only been one. And she's a temp. And we have NOTHING in common. It's amazing how much this affects my day. You'd think I'd be too busy to notice or even give it any weight. But it does. I found that I prefer to work in the office alone for 3 hours after I'm supposed to clock out than make sporadic small talk during regular business hours with my very nice though un-relate-able temp.

Given the choice, I wouldn't hire her. Is that wrong? Am I getting old and set in my ways? I feel like I just don't want to work so hard anymore at the people thing. I'm tired of the polite conversations about the movies I see ,with subtitles, that no one's heard of. Or of the gratuitous gushing over my quaint hobbies. Or of my kooky insistence at recycling everything and at snipping the plastic rings off the 6-packs of high fructose corn syrup filled soft-drinks that we get delivered by the cases every month.

I shouldn't make it sound so horrible. It could be a lot worse, right? And then there are the high points. Like the genuine disappointment and congratulations when I told my clients that I would be relocating to another location and no longer working with them. The sincere appreciation of my staff for my efforts, like tonight.

While working late at the office, I break the news to one of my staff that June 1 is my last day at this location and that I've been relocated elsewhere. She is excited for my opportunity and good fortune, but sad that I am leaving. She tells me that I am her angel at the workplace and that she prays for me. I am moved to tears. To be fair, I am often and easily moved to tears. But she is a nice lady and she hardly knows me, but she prays for me. I'm not a religious person (though I do consider myself to be spiritual) and this revelation reminds me of the smart young man at my last location, who told me that he prayed for me too. And hearng this makes me feel like I am blessed somehow. Like I'm 7 years old again and I just found a 4-leaf clover and I'm stoked cause I know that my year is made.