So, I’m trying to reclaim some of my time.
Yes, it’s the last day of March, but I … bought a calendar.
Yeah, I know.
I’m addicted to my Outlook calendar at work, but I refuse to get a Treo or Blackberry, so I depend upon my feeble brain to keep track of non-work obligations.
This high-tech system? Not working so well.
So, I shelled out $1.47 for a cheap and ugly little calendar at Target. Yes, they had cute ones, but they were all roughly the size of unabridged dictionaries. So I bought the ugly one, as it will fit easily into whichever of my gazillion purses I happen to be carrying.
I’m trying to reign in my weeknights so that I never have more than two obligations every week. And by obligation, I mean any type of event that doesn’t allow me to sit on the couch in my underwear.
I’m overwhelmed yet simultaneously bored at work. This makes my focus on how I spend my time even more acute. Overwhelmed yet bored is how I’m choosing to spend 40 hours of my week. Hrmph. Well-paid yet bored. Comfortable yet uncomfortable every afternoon because of stress.
Seriously. I have gas every afternoon.
It doesn’t matter what I eat. It doesn’t happen on the weekends. It’s stress. Stress is making me fart with wild abandon every night on the commute home! I know!
So. The reclamation is starting with the weeknights – approximately 10 hours a week. Baby steps, my friends.
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1 comment:
The image of you farting in your underwear while lounging on the couch is seared in my brain forever. You crazy girl.
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