I think the nor'easter (and I hate that word, I think it should just be northeaster and as a matter of fact, i've been pronouncing it that way out of spite) has finally invaded my brain. Yesterday was lovely when I got to lay in bed all day and watch movies with GC, but the rain is not quite as fun when you have to walk through it to get to work. After GC left, i tried to do my taxes (now filing for an extension), watched the sopranos and entourage and then literally twiddled my thumbs for three hours. I didn't feel like going to sleep. The Sunday night dread of the work week ahead kept me up in an attempt to try and extend the weekend as long as I could. Because it was an amazing weekend. And that's why I was all the more annoyed that the rain finally got to me and started to bring me down. A little bit of rain on the weekend can be nice, as it was during the day. But when it comes down relentlessly, and you can't go outside because of it, that's what you have to draw the line.
It got me thinking about this article I've been trying to begin writing about happiness in your 20s, in the 21st century. The fact that I had Sunday night dread really irked me. I feel like I'm getting too old to feel this way. I'm not saying I'm ever going to wake up on Monday morning going "Hooray! It's time for work!" but must I dread the feeling of waking up in the morning? According to some of the interviews I've been conducting too, I'm not alone. Is it just where I'm at right now? Is this just a fact of life? Isn't there a better way?
I can't wait for the rain to clear up so that my thoughts get cleared up too. I'm at work and I'm not dying...and to think I stayed up until 1 a.m. thinking about it. Crazy.
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Geez, Lia, get used to it. It's always going to be that way. It's not so bad when you get used to it. I LOVED Sunday. A down day before beginning the new work week. And someday I'll tell you what it's like to work for a deranged sociopath with absolutely no background or experience so filled with his own power and making $130,000. But life is about the other stuff and while I find myself looking SO forward to retirement the reality is I will be 62. Where is the justice in all this? No justice, humor is the only thing to get you through. And family.
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