...cause I'm done. Never fear, dear reader, I am still alive. I'm functioning somewhere between sleep-deprived-mother-of-a-newborn and zombie. In the words of my facetious co-worker, "My team spirit has a 7:00 p.m. expiration date." I have worked over 60 hours this week. If you want to provoke me just say something about how "it's the American way" and "if you really want to get ahead that's what you'd do all the time." Shut. Up. If you work 60 hours every week you are a masochist. This is not how real people live. Wake up, people! We're killing ourselves! If we're ever invaded we'll be too tired and overworked to defend ourselves! *Canadians* could take us over (no offense Canada)!
And, if you couldn't tell, I'm slightly deranged right now. Lack of quality sleep will do that to you.
In all seriousness though...I had to check in because it's been almost a week since my last post. I'm still functioning, but poorly. My mental health is suffering and my ability to control the snarky comments coming from my mouth is going in and out. I have to work tomorrow but there is hope that I won't have to work Sunday. And today was my last 12 hour day. Never mind that Monday will be a 9 and half hour day.
Excuse me while I weep in the fetal position for a few hours.