April 13, 2001
Earning My Weekend

 


 
If ever I've earned a weekend, it's this one.

This has been a phenomenally hideous week at the Totem Pole Company. (Or as Secra circa 1998 would probably have described it, it was "Poopy with a capital oopy.")  It wasn't simply because they fired Ned the Receptionist Guy on Tuesday, although that definitely seemed to set the tone around the office for the rest of the week.  And it wasn't because we lost a potential bazillion dollar job on Thursday, and all of the Testosterone Units spent the remainder of the week trying to kill each other totally dead right outside my office door, although that definitely ended the week on a sour note.

It wasn't even because I've had raging, relentless PMS (or PMDD, or PDQ, or PFUNK, or whatever the hell it is) for five goddamn days now ... seriously diminishing my ability to handle life's little crises with anything even remotely resembling cool or dignity or fingernails.

It was all of this stuff put together, I guess, that sort of pushed me over the edge.

It's not that I didn't try to rise above it. I did. I came into the office every single morning this week, determined to start over ... start fresh ... start clean. Yesterday was a crappy day? Then today is going to be different! That was my mantra. I would remain calm and capable and tolerant, no matter what. I would stay focused on my job and get my work done quickly and correctly, the first time through. I wouldn't let minor irritations get to me (like fist fights in the lunchroom). Plus I was really careful about stuff like sleep and nutrition and caffeine intake and orgasm therapy and daily affirmations and wearing my *power colors* every day.

Even so -- even with all of my precautions and preparations and internal pep talks -- I'd usually get as far as that 9:07 a.m. banana-and-Calistoga break before the Totem Pole fell over on top of me again.

On Tuesday it was the Ned The Receptionist Guy Crisis. 

On Wednesday, it was the *Oh Shidt! We Fired The Receptionist! (And Now All Of A Sudden We've Realized We Don't Have A RECEPTIONIST)* Crisis.

Yesterday -- Thursday -- it was The Losing The Bazillion Dollar Job Crisis (coupled with the *Wait A Minute! Why Do We Need To Hire A New Receptionist When We Have SECRA?* Crisis).

Today it was The Missing Hydrology Report Crisis. At least our crises have become progressively more ridiculous -- and progressively less interesting -- as the week drags on.

I think it was halfway through the day on Wednesday before I finally realized that the only turmoil I had even a molecule of control over, this week, was the turmoil inside my own head. I couldn't do a thing about the hallway gang wars or the office machine malfunctions or the big itchy zit on my cheek ... or the fact that I was expected to do the job of eleven people, all week long ... but I could at least, with some minor effort, dial down a little of the internal noise. And the best way for me to do that was to keep my eyes on the prize:

The weekend.

Two whole days to rest and relax and recuperate. Two whole days to putter around Alameda with David on Saturday (our beloved *David-and-Terri Day*), and then to putter around the apartment by myself on Sunday (my beloved *Alone Day*). Two whole days of quality time spent with the heating pad and the Aleve bottle. Two whole days to return my overdue library books, catch up on my overdue laundry, write some overdue e-mail, wait for my $#*&! overdue period. Two whole days without paper jams or pantyhose or people standing in my doorway screaming expletives at me because they don't have a wall calendar ... when what they're really angry about is the fact that they've just fudked up a bazillion dollar project.

And two whole days to gear myself up for NEXT week, which  --  unless a *miracle* occurs and the Easter Bunny brings us a new receptionist, over the weekend -- promises to be a re-run of this week.

Although -- hopefully -- without the PMS. Or the profanity.

Enjoy your weekend, everybody. You'd better believe I'm going to enjoy mine.




p.s. happy easter to *my* three favorite bunnies! let me know when they deliver the new cell phones and the big screen tv, ok?? [you remember my phone number ... right?]



one year ago: hurricane franz
two years ago: hiatus

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