Friday, September 13, 2013

The daily grind

The problem with blogging daily is that, well, you have to blog every day. It's good for me though. It keeps me awake past 7 pm because I am telling you, my new job is exhausting. With a capital H. I come home at the end of every day with a headache and so tired that I can hardly move. Tonight, Husband said let's go make dinner and I said what you mean by let's is I should go make dinner and I'm too tired. So I lay there moaning about how much thinking I have to do in my new job, and then Child 3 got so hungry she volunteered to make dinner, so it all worked out very well for me. We had gluten-free pancakes and fried potatoes with bacon for dinner because for some reason, the children think it's a treat to eat breakfast for dinner and it is extremely easy and requires a minimum of work on my part. So yippee for gluten-free pancake mix!


Now, I know you are wondering why I was complaining about thinking in my job and didn't I have to think in my last one? And the answer is yes. I had to think deep thoughts about horrible things and then write about them. And I loved it because I could go at my own pace which meant everyone was happy as long as I was thinking and writing. But in this new job, it's the pace that's killing me. I still have to think deep thoughts, I just have to finish writing about them 10 minutes ago and hurry up because someone is waiting for my paragraph that I haven't even had time to steal from someone else's paper yet. All that cutting and pasting is so hard! OK, not really. It's just the pace again. And I do way more than that which I won't talk about, but again, I have to unravel very tangled threads in minutes, whereas in my previous job, I could take a whole day, even a week if I had to in order to untangle it. One project took a looong time and I think even my supervisor was tired of waiting for me to finish it. But when I did, he loved it. He said it was a masterpiece and he bragged about it to everyone. I enjoyed the being bragged about. But now, in my new job, I don't have a day. I have 5 minutes and hurry up already. It makes my head hurt. Husband says I'll get used to the pace, but I'm no Speed Racer.

I'm more like Miss Daisy.


Getting the windows blown out of the American Consulate in Herat is not better than a brownie. When I saw the news, my heart stopped a little until I remembered Husband was safe in the bowels of the Department and no longer in Afghanistan. But my heart goes out to the families of the Afghans who died and all my friends having bad days because their loved ones are far away in a war zone. May you all find peace today and may peace eventually prevail.


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