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I don’t think it’s any big sekrit that I don’t understand myself. Well, I do, but some days I don’t.

I called off sick yesterday, which is usually code for “I just don’t feel like working today.” I get some nasty headaches, and so sometimes the morning call to my useless boss’s cell phone really is a sick headache, but mostly it’s just me calling in disinterested.

Yesterday was a “I’m just too tired, and I don’t feel like it” kind of day.

And snow day like, I get all gleeful for a while that I have a whole day free to do nothing but laze around the house and take lots of cat naps with my cat.

Except that invariably, after doing what I wanted to do … nothing and napping… I end up feeling guilty that I had all this time and I didn’t do anything productive. Then I get depressed for feeling like a failure as a human being.

Yeah. The voices in my head are prone to over exaggeration! (And oddly they are dressed today like some kind of uber-Puritans.)

And it not like I got NOTHING done. I wrote a couple hundred words about Ianto in the lower sixth, I did some dishes, I started a book I’ve been trying to get to. And I rested. I needed it after all the lost sleep from CoE week and production week following.

And I watched THIS THING THAT ISN'T REALLY ABOUT PENGUINS.

In fact, I think I’ll go watch it again before I fling myself into cataloging horrible Biotechnology DVDs.

And bonus points that I’m going out to lunch with some former co-workers.

So off to drown the Puritans in my head. (I hope they don’t float – or is that sink?)

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January 2015

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