This is proving to be a somewhat challenging week. Nothing new then. Work is tough, and everyone is as exhausted as I am, even if they are half my age. This is reassuring, as I was starting to wonder what was wrong with me. For heaven's sake, people, I was asleep on the couch last night at 7.30pm, and it was just Monday. I woke at 10.30 and was still wide awake at 2am. Ideal for optimum firing on all cylinders at dawn. Of course.
Today was more of the same, except I had the added delight of a chat with the powers that be at the hospital, who seem to think that rescheduling our meeting for the end of June is reasonable. I disagreed. In fact, I was just a little tetchy. Mad even. Yes. Definitely furious. I pointed out that I had been patience personified, and had been waiting since October. Making concessions, and compromises to suit them along the way. And that I was now clean out of conciliatory reserves. When the person I was talking to informed me that I had no option but to arrange to take time off from work (unpaid) in order to fit in with their busy schedule, I informed them that I was, at that point, too furious to continue with the conversation, and that we would continue it at a later date. And I put down the phone.
So I am all sweetness and light at the moment. Dancing a merry jig. Sometimes, I just wish it would all go away.
At times, our own hurdles seem to be the size of mountains. To someone on the outside, it may all seem so minor, but to the one in the middle? Maybe not. And as much as we may try to leave the stress factor aside, it rears its ugly head, and we are toast. I am mixing metaphors with abandon tonight. And that suits me fine.
Almost a year ago, I was talking about jumbled thoughts. Maybe it is a seasonal thing for me. My mind is not the calmest, most tranquil place at the moment. I am writing here, while the brain is composing letters at the same time. I am planning lessons in one corner of my mind, and computing timetables for airlines in another. The "to do" list is growing as fast as the weeds in my garden, and hibernation sounds like a good option.
In the end, though, the things that make life good, no matter what happens, are people. The smiles when I walk into the staffroom. The sounds of my son cleaning the patio again as I walk in the door. The phone call from a friend to see how my day has gone. Little things. Small insignificant things which make it all worthwhile. Never underestimate what a simple call or message could mean.
My sense of humour and I will resume normal service when I have the energy.