Exhaust

So yeah. Put in something like 32 hours this past weekend, culminating at 3:30am Monday morning. Combined with the time I worked the previous weekend, I technically shouldn't have to come to work at all this week. (We go on a two-week pay cycle, Saturday through Friday, of which this is the second week. A normal pay cycle should have about 80 hours charged to it; as of right now, I'm at 89.)

Except of course that there are at least a few things that really have to be done. I came in to work yesterday (late) for about four hours, then went home (early) and took a nap.

I expect today to be my longest work day of the week, because I'm running a training session this afternoon that might run as late as 3:30. After that's over, I'm going home. Either Wednesday or Thursday I want to take off entirely, and I fully expect to come in late and/or leave early every other day this week as well. I'm only coming in at all because we have documents to deliver and the person who'd usually cover for me if I wasn't here is out on maternity leave. I believe the word we're looking for here is "lackadaisical". I have already informed my boss of this plan. (Note that I did not ask him. I just told him. And my minion who worked 30 hours this weekend along with me took yesterday off and has been given tacit approval to take as much time off as our schedule will allow, as well. Though she isn't salaried, so she might choose to work the rest of the week normally and collect a juicy overtime check.)

By the way, muchmany thanks to Matt and both kids for being so awesome about my crap working hours lately. Matt has uncomplainingly taken on the single parenting duties, and the kids have been pretty good for him (well, within the confines of their abilities. They're six and almost-two; let's not expect miracles). Matt brought the kids up to visit me at work for a bit on Sunday, and I raided the office supply closet to give Penny a pad of mini sticky-notes. (She's easily won; what can I say?) When I got home Monday morning at 3:30 or so, I found a sticky-note on my laptop that said "I love Mommy" and another one that was a picture of me and Penny inside a heart. She'd also used them to put various labels on everyone's bedroom door, and at everyone's seat at the dining table. It was exactly the smile that I needed before I crawled into bed.

And Alex has always been affectionate and happy to be cuddled, but lately he's been piling on the unasked-for hugs and those wonderfully precious full-on barreling run-and-fling-into-Mommy's-arms embraces that warm me the way nothing else possibly can. I have the best family EVAR.

Plans for my time off: I want to get my camera and go wander the Colonial area to take pictures; and I need to go shopping for clothes, because I only have three long-sleeved shirts that fit, and half-sleeves are not doing it for me this fall. (I may actually need a real coat this winter.) Other than that, I plan to do Not Much Of Anything. Write a little, perhaps. Work on my scrapbook. Plan for my trip to Atlanta next month. Watch movies and TV. Stare into space and drool slightly.

And when the weekend comes, I will Not Work. I promised Penny we could make a "special breakfast" one day -- she hasn't decided yet what that means, but I suspect either pancakes or french toast. It being the last weekend before Hallowe'en, we should take the kids to Pumpkinville to pick out our pumpkins. Maybe go visit my parents. Whatever. Anything that is Not Work.

Next week begins a new pay period, with a normal work schedule. But right now, I can barely plan past my next cup of coffee. And that's kind of how I'm liking it.