I stumbled into the newsroom where I was greeted with the usual Monday morning “Hey how are ya?” or a nod accompanied by a rather pedestrian “How was your weekend?” Not that I mind the attention. In fact it’s nice to have human contact in the workplace. But nobody knows how I’m feeling after running an entire 48 hours with as much as 6 hours of sleep. And frankly I don’t think anyone cares. They just want to make sure I’m not dead. Once they know I’m breathing, then life in the office can go on.
I learned early on when I started in a real workplace office type thing that nobody really cares two shits about the girl who puts her head down on the desk and looks like hell warmed over and then complains about her weekend and not getting enough sleep. Here’s a little secret: nobody gets enough sleep. If everyone got enough sleep then there would be less people on the road or in line at the movies because they’d all be sleeping. Honestly 24 hours per day are not enough to get everything done that needs to be done.
Not to mention the fun of supplementing your income as a freelance writer which on occasion takes you to Montreal for a weekend (which is where I was) and then back home just in time to walk into a quick Monday meeting.
So I’ll keep my craving for attention act to myself while I think about other things like my new phone I’m getting or how I’ve just about finished my Christmas shopping and now I can start decorating my house. (This week’s challenge!) I bought some new lights and I plan to go top-to-bottom like I used to do when I lived in Montreal. The last two years haven’t really been Rockerfeller Center at my place, so I plan to make up for it this year. And why not start early while it’s still November. At least I’ll get some fresh air while I’m crawling on my roof and over-hangs with a staple-gun.