Yep, that's me this week. Dead Girl Walking. I've worked every day and night this week. I had 40 hours in by Wednesday, not counting what I did over the weekend. I wanted to take tomorrow night off but there's one function on the web site that's giving me trouble so it doesn't look like it will happen. I have an actual deadline this time. They're going to start testing the auction part of the site on Monday, and there's a lot left to do. I also have plans on Sunday with a friend and while I know damn well I shouldn't go, I'm going. I need to get out of here and I've put him off for months. So that leaves tomorrow night and Saturday, period.
I'm really beat. I've given up on dinner this week and replaced it with cookies. I can't get in the shower at night before 1am. The apartment stinks from five-day-old dishes. If I had wanted to do nothing with my life but work, I would have gone into advertising.
I remember working hard in grad school. 12 to 16 hour days seven days a week. We at least got Christmas, and summer, somewhat... this Christmas will still be about the web site. I haven't had a vacation in three years. Grad school was easier somehow. I had stress, that's for sure, but I don't remember it ever making me nauseous for days at a time. But back then, all that was riding on my work was a grade. This time, it's an entire business. This affects far more than just me.
I'm too old for this. The day job is great but it's tiring, and too hard for me to be this stressed out after I leave at night. It's a 100mph job and it's the easiest thing I have in my life right now. It's quickly becoming the only break I get. In fact, we had a halloween-type party tonight at the bar on the other end of the floor--I think we had about 30 people crammed into that one cube (and yes there is a bar in the cube, complete with bar stools, grass skirts, inflatable palm trees, and a toilet with a hand coming out of it to welcome you at the door). There was punch that tasted like a giant pink margarita with dry ice to make it all smokey. People were throwing a roll of tp at each other. It trailed down the hallway between the cubes. Some of it landed on me so I wore it as a scarf, which came in really handy when they ordered pizza. Ross brought in a big bowl of halloween candy and we had dessert too.
I had one glass of punch and lost my ability to type. I had sobered up by the time I went home though, which was pretty much the same time I always go home. I would love to have stayed longer but I had work to do. And I wasn't happy about it since I'm already missing halloween, but if I had stayed I would have just worried myself sick about what I wasn't getting done and probably would have had to cancel Sunday, which is still a possibility. Because I know I'm not getting up early on Saturday to work. I just don't have it in me.
A lot of people will be dressing up to go to work tomorrow. I would go as the goth chick on NCIS that's always drinking slurpees, that is if I had time to put a costume together. So instead I'll wear my favorite orange shirt and leave it at that. Oh well, maybe next year.
I'm really beat. I've given up on dinner this week and replaced it with cookies. I can't get in the shower at night before 1am. The apartment stinks from five-day-old dishes. If I had wanted to do nothing with my life but work, I would have gone into advertising.
I remember working hard in grad school. 12 to 16 hour days seven days a week. We at least got Christmas, and summer, somewhat... this Christmas will still be about the web site. I haven't had a vacation in three years. Grad school was easier somehow. I had stress, that's for sure, but I don't remember it ever making me nauseous for days at a time. But back then, all that was riding on my work was a grade. This time, it's an entire business. This affects far more than just me.
I'm too old for this. The day job is great but it's tiring, and too hard for me to be this stressed out after I leave at night. It's a 100mph job and it's the easiest thing I have in my life right now. It's quickly becoming the only break I get. In fact, we had a halloween-type party tonight at the bar on the other end of the floor--I think we had about 30 people crammed into that one cube (and yes there is a bar in the cube, complete with bar stools, grass skirts, inflatable palm trees, and a toilet with a hand coming out of it to welcome you at the door). There was punch that tasted like a giant pink margarita with dry ice to make it all smokey. People were throwing a roll of tp at each other. It trailed down the hallway between the cubes. Some of it landed on me so I wore it as a scarf, which came in really handy when they ordered pizza. Ross brought in a big bowl of halloween candy and we had dessert too.
I had one glass of punch and lost my ability to type. I had sobered up by the time I went home though, which was pretty much the same time I always go home. I would love to have stayed longer but I had work to do. And I wasn't happy about it since I'm already missing halloween, but if I had stayed I would have just worried myself sick about what I wasn't getting done and probably would have had to cancel Sunday, which is still a possibility. Because I know I'm not getting up early on Saturday to work. I just don't have it in me.
A lot of people will be dressing up to go to work tomorrow. I would go as the goth chick on NCIS that's always drinking slurpees, that is if I had time to put a costume together. So instead I'll wear my favorite orange shirt and leave it at that. Oh well, maybe next year.
