Hells bells, infidels all part of my crew…
It seems that the older I get, I start looking at the weekends with more and more reverence… almost like Christmas Eve to a 6 year old.
It’s not even like my weekends are all that awetabulous, they’re mostly just OK… but I’m not working.
It’s not even that I hate my job, it’s not torturous, it’s not like I’m on the chain gang or cleaning out porta potties. I have a pretty low stress job (as long as no one fucks with me), I work with several people I like, I can get a few minutes here and there to entertain you… so really, it could be and has been worse.
So what’s my problem?
Maybe it’s a rut?
Here’s an article about being in a rut and how to climb out.
Maybe I’m not in a rut after all.
Bored is probably a better word for it. I don’t mind my job, but it doesn’t excite me, I can’t say that I look forward to it. I just do it. Like I’m expected to.
I need excitement!!! And probably a career change.
I’d love to go back to school; I really need to seriously look at the possibilities.
It looks like the snowpocalypse isn’t really coming to fruition either. I was hoping to get some snowy cemetery photos soon, doesn’t look like that’s going to happen…
Maybe I’ll just go to bed for the weekend!!!