So I finished phase I of Beanie's Death March Project, and while I have Phase II to go through, it's a more known quantity and I have more control over those parts that affect me, so it's looking OK. The rest of my job is going pretty well -- my quarterly report is late, officially, as of today, but I'll have that rectified as of tomorrow.
I've had a headhunter (ahem...Executive Recruiter) chasing my tail for a job in the private sector that looks great, and would be great if it wasn't so travel intensive. I think I'm going to turn it down, but I'm interested to see how big a bag of money they intend to beat me with before all is said and done.
Mom is on the mend, albeit slowly. She's bored to tears in my house with no way to get around, which means that I cannot remove an article of clothing or dirty a dish without it being whisked from my sight and cleaned.
But I can live with that. In fact, I'm thinking about hiring her.
Seriously, though, I think in another month, she'll be back on her feet and back in her house, with a bit of help. So this is a good thing. And she and S haven't murdered each other, so I'm officially declaring victory. Yay!
My daughter is doing well in school. This is a big deal, given that she was expelled from school three times before her fifth birthday.
You think I'm kidding. I'm not.
But she's kicking booty and taking names this year, is making friends, flunking spelling (which proves that she's really my kid and I didn't buy her from a trafficker named Ahmed) and being a great, normal, 2nd grader. And she makes me laugh every day.
All things considered, my life could be a whole lot worse.
So why do I feel like bawling my eyes out 24/7? Why am I jumping on every little perceived slight? Seriously, I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams. I want to sleep -- constantly -- and when I am not comatose, I'm just not focusing.