One Week

It's been a week since I last wrote. I feel like all I have done is work. I worked Monday through Friday and then spent 4 hours in a parade yesterday for one of our units. The parade was a blast, but I must say, I cannot control my stress level.

It's one thing to put on a mask at work and try my best not to show that I'm stressed. I know it shows the most in the morning when I'm tired and it's hard to put my game face on. There are three special events coming up at work and everyone is stressed out. I have a stress migraine coming on right now and have taken some advil and caffeine to hopefully keep it at bay. I don't have a free weekend until November. I've got something for work just about every weekend. Next weekend, I'm helping out at the Farmers Market to spread the word about one of our events. The weekend after that, I'll be recovering from surgery. The weekend after that we have an event. The weekend after that, I'm free and then we have the oh so fun board retreat the weekend after that. Last year's retreat, I think maybe an hour was worth the staff being there.

I really want to get out of here. I'm sick of being stressed all the time. I hate feeling like the world is going to end if I take a day off. I've tried all the stress relieving techniques I used with the mentally ill kids I worked with, but I have to say, nothing is working. I feel like I spent a lot of the weekend sleeping and reading which are my usual stress relievers with no result. Stress triggers my fibromyalgia which causes immense pain, which stresses me more, which causes more pain. Today I feel like I'm 80.

I don't eat when I'm stressed, but I always feel like I could sleep forever. One good thing is that the cats have been behaving themselves the past couple of days. Sleeping with the fan on keeps them from waking me up too many times in the middle of the night.

Book Reviews:

Booking Passage by Thomas Lynch. I cannot rate this book. I didn't get past chapter three. The author is so incredibly long winded, I couldn't take it anymore. How many times can the author tell you the names of the families that live in the town he writes about? Really. I could probably tell you all the families if you asked me because he tells you at least one a chapter if not three or four times. He continually repeats himself and it feels like he's filling the pages with fluff. It's like a high schooler trying to fill the pages of an essay. He's just blabbing.

Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. 4.5/5 What a well-written and ODD novel. It's a memoir and the man has truly had one (excuse my language) fucked up life. Every chapter leaves you with your mouth open in shock. It also leaves you feeling sorry, or laughing, or any other variety of feelings you can have while reading a book. Tremendously written. The characters are well written and it's easy to imagine them in your head while you read.

Speaking of reading, I saw another Kindle in person yesterday. I think they're neat, but I cannot imagine reading a book without being able to smell what I call "book smell" and being able to feel the pages. Maybe someday, but I don't think I'd like it right now.

Men: My love life hasn't been what I'd like to call successful. The guy I wrote about earlier ended up not being as great as he seemed. I did go on another date which was nice, but the second time we hung out he wanted to clip his toenails in front of me and thought I'd play video games or at least watch him play. Sorry, I'm not looking to date another Andrew. I've had a couple other dates which have been fine, but I cannot imagine being serious with anyone right now. I've got too many things going on.

I'll take any suggestions on stress relievers. Pittsburgh is looking pretty great right now. I miss my family.