This morning? Much better.
Something happened on Friday...actually, Thursday. No, I did not go postal on my workmates in the fantastical way I described I could be pushed to do so as I chatted with my mom this morning. Or maybe I did, but only in my head.
See, my back? Got much much worse before it got better. As I sit here typing sitting up straight and trying my best to type at the correct angle (the desk is a might too tall, the chair too short, it's not like I sit here 40 hrs a week, and I do love my desk...but I'm silly that way...where was I? Right, so bad that I could neither sit nor stand nor lie down nor crumble into the aforementioned ball...much less manage to call my "butt-doctor" and see if he could work a miracle. Instead I flat out busted out and cried my eyes out.
That's when I realized that there was a lot more stress tied up into my hurt than what I was giving credit. Mind over matter and all that? Why not? If 800 mg ibuprophen was barely cutting it, I was open to multiple suggestions from everywhere and anywhere.
And people? A good cry is sometimes exactly what the doctor ordered. That and ranting a little to your immediate supervisor who was about to go on vacation (!) about how much you do not look forward to training a new temp because you've actually not been given official notice that your current temp is leaving on Friday and why am I the one in charge of these people if I'm the lowest man on the totem pole!...also helps, LOADS.
See, I've mentioned my horrible work ethic before, right? Horrible in that I maybe care more than my station and take on extra work and responsibilities and possibly get recognized for my efforts, but never ever compensated. I know it's probably because every job I've had was me being responsible for getting my work done without someone having to remind me of my to-do list because: we were a really small office; I was working for myself; or it was just the easiest thing to be the shift supervisor so we could get stuff done.
There is, however, a limit. And seeing as I do not want to end up like my mother with her handful of ulcers and high blood pressure, I need to chill more. If my supervisor is willing to go on a long weekend during our search for the next team member? Check-run be damned, I should not care so much. Eventually, once the team is fully staffed again, we can meet all our goals. Until then? I promise I will not work myself to death.
And so...on Thursday, 5PM we were booted out of our system as we were finally upgrading to the official latest version of our accounting software. So for the first time in how long? I was able to go home...ON TIME. I could not do any more work, too bad, so sad, I know! And Friday? No system. I was able to clean up my inbox like you wouldn't believe. All with little to no interruptions as everyone in the know, knew I had no access to our records, so....I couldn't find any information for them even if I wanted to! And the day was lax enough for me to give my back a break, and yet still be able to get my act together for Monday. Except maybe I think the temp took the key to the lockable drawers in the cube...I'll have to ask about that, later. Cuz you know what? Not really my problem. And that is my theme for the time being.
As the blog as my witness, I absolutely refuse to get sucked into the ball of "must happen yesterday" that my wee little team can delve deeply into. I'm too old for that (yep, that would be me saying everyone else on my team, barring our main boss, is younger than me, it happens, I guess).
And my shoulder is starting to tingle a little...probably from a combination of typing and thinking about all this mess, so that's my cue to stop.
For any dad's reading my crazy-pants musings: HAPPY DAD'S DAY!