Burn out

I told you Mr. Gene's getting published.  We met with the publisher, she took the copies of the manuscript, and now she's given them back with tons of ink, pencil, and highlighter marks all over the pages.  That's what we need, and it's good for the story, but I kinda thought I was finished with this project a while ago, it takes a lot of work to change 30 pages from third to first person, and I'm... dying.

Not literally.  But you know that feeling you get when you just want to slowly eat delicious things and curl inside the biggest down comforter in the world?  Do you see how it's bad when your body tells you it want to do that forever, starting now?

I am exhausted.  I worked a solid 8 days, two days off, I just finished number 3 of a ragged 4, and then I will have another two days off.  I didn't get to recharge very well after the set of 8 because of errands meetings and driving Dad to the airport.  Saturday, I struggled all day to keep my head above water as the customers flooded into the department I was covering because we were short staffed.  Didn't get my lunch break until 45 minutes before I was supposed to leave.  Sunday and today we worked inventory.  They said it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be this kind of hard.  The kind where your mind is taxed instead of your body.  Standing for 9 hours isn't all that fun, but it's the work your brain has to do that leaves you feeling drained at the end of the day, and it's the whirring of that brain that kept me in a fitful five hours of sleep last night until I woke again at in the morning to come and finish inventory.

I was released around 10 this morning.  I needed to pick up some things from the store and called my mom to see if she needed anything.  In a quick recap of my state, I told her I just wanted to fall flat on my face in the parking lot.  She said I'd scrape my nose, and I added that my glasses would break, so I kick started myself to make it for another hour until I got home and in bed.

I slept for 2.5 hours.  When I woke up and decided I could lay in bed for another half hour, all I could think of was numbers, stock, pegs, counting, counting, counting, red pencils, clipboards, and walking like a zombie.  When I was little, I used to love to count.  I counted everything.  Working inventory sapped the love away.  Another thing: when I got home last night and went up to the bathroom to wash my face, I noticed how dirty the sink was.  My next thought was "I don't want to clean anything for a whole month."  I've never said anything like that before, but strain kills a lot.

I am very thankful I haven't had to interact with any ill customers, though.  As I was looking for desks today, I thought of general conversations with people, and I pictured myself biting the heads off of everyone my imaginary self spoke to.  And sawing them in half.  With a rusty saw.

Sorry, we'll move on.

On Saturday, I had the pleasure of serving two kind ladies amidst the insanity.  One had come to the copy and print center with bookmarks her friend had made for her son's wedding.  She needed them to be cut, and she needed them to be perfect.  She was wholeheartedly understanding of the many demands on my time and said twice that it was okay for me to take my time so I could be as focused as possible and that she will wait as long as she needs.  Who ever thought working with paper could be so stressful!  But I returned her bookmarks after 20-30 minutes, I think, and they were perfect.  Job well done.

Another lady had been trying to get a program just so but the self serve copy machine got toner when it shouldn't have, and I needed to redo her copies for her.  She had already been int he store for at least an hour when this happened, and I noted how she hadn't appeared stressed about the issue.  I said so, and she said that you have to have patience when you're a teacher.

"Ah, yes.  I'm going to be teaching Korean kids English in a few months, and that is something I'm really worried about."

"Well, I need to pray for patience every night.  Every day."

Connection.

We talked on and off between copying and other customers.  She told me about how God giving her their first son really prepared her for being a teacher.  I told her about Korea.  She told me about how great it was that I was getting to travel and to be a good influence to those kids.  (She teared up, and it made me feel very special.)  I told her she could keep up with me on my blog. She told me her email address.  We hugged when she left.

That's what I love about my job.

"Would you catch me if I fall?"
by Ashley Rose via Flickr

It may or may not have been a good idea to sign up to help with D-Now this weekend.  Dear God, protect those high schoolers from me!  I will have Wednesday and Thursday off, though, and I will try to use the time to recuperate as much as possible.  And then, Sunday morning, I'm going to go see friends!  Many of them!  I'm going to see the Bryan College Chorale perform in Columbus in six days!  And I'll have Caleb's company on the 3 hour trip.  It will be good.