The most delightful thing happened Tuesday.
I woke up, checked my email and voicemail, swore and left the house.
For the next eight hours, I was firing off texts, emails, Facebook messages and making phone calls. I handled some unrelated stuff at work. I even took Renée shopping. My phone’s battery got down to the single digits twice.
In short, I got stuff done.
And I haven’t felt this alive in about two years.
It’s what I do: I run around angry and stressed and I get stuff done. I tend to have too much on my plate because I pile it on until it’s ridiculous. I don’t feel like myself when everything’s an easy ride day in and day out.
I was cruising on this high at work Wednesday. I have a jam-packed 36 hour period next Friday and Saturday that’s going to take me to Newport News to Washington, D.C., and back. I’m thinking about all the stuff I need to get done in the next five months and I’m getting pumped because I’m back in THERE’S NOT ENOUGH TIME. WE NEED TO DO THIS NOW. mode. I feel energized.
I think I needed to feel important instead of like a cog.
I wish no one lived downstairs. There’s stuff I want to get done now and I don’t want to wait until Friday, like vacuuming. That’s the one thing I miss about living in Hopewell: I always get the urge to vacuum at like 1 a.m., and that was the only place where I could do it then because Fred was awake and we lived in a detached house.
I spent a big chunk of last night reconciling my music and playlists in my cloud drive. My books aren’t in order. That’s getting taken care of soon. I’d do it now, but I’m feeling a crash coming on and I have a 12-hour shift tomorrow.
I’m actually looking forward to a 12-hour shift tomorrow. Now I just need to look at things closer: I’ve been missing little things that wouldn’t slip past me before, and it’s bothering me. I’m the person who used to blog in perfect AP style (plus expletives), remember?
I am not always Type A but, when I am, I prefer it.
I’m just getting started. I’m about the annoy the crap out of some people in real life.