And now, a time to rest


Ah! I’m so happy to have a long stretch of days where I can do what I want. I’ve spent the last two weeks under the pump, finishing a project before holiday time. My bits are done now, I don’t have to think about work for aaages. This is good. Merry Christmas to me. :)

Such a relief. It was looking insurmountable at the start. We had some negativity early on about the project and it was a huge load on my mind having to deal with that AND the design AND the build… AND learn html5 and enough .NET to be of use to the team. While, outside of work, there was an uncanny about of busy-ness, drama, excitement, anticipation thrown my way. People talk about people going crazy this time of year, and I almost believe it this year, even though I have hardly any Christmas shopping or planning to do.


So, yeah, it’s been depressingly hectic lately, but I feel like I made a huge effort, accomplished something (even it was just not rage quitting) and earned my rest. I feel like Warwick Davis when he climbed those stairs in An Idiot Abroad. I feel like I could handle another effort marathon or take on the world… but not today. Not for another two weeks at least.

The past six months have been really trying, but I’m not sure how or why. Everything looks the same on the surface – same job, same income, same spending, same people, same routine. Does all that sameness make a person go crazy? It’s only been six months, so surely not. I remember the flight home from Queenstown – it was like we’d entered a bizarro world where everything went wrong, and we somehow got stuck it it til now.

I didn’t post about it then cos cbf, but our flight got delayed, then delayed again, then delayed again. The staff at Melbourne Airport looked barely able to communicate with each other while herding us like cattle between stations. One security lady shook a stick in my direction after I offered to help her co-worker open my tricky ziploc bathroom bag. Anyway, my sympathy for them aside, it was a crap journey home followed by a half-year of “one thing after another” – maybe some of it self-inflicted while trying to deal with it all.


I’ve been told this is called a “perfect storm” of stress, and it’s normal and everybody gets them. I’m sure I’ve had storms before but not been so aware of them as now. The little Catholic in me suggests they are a test from God. But the Rationalist in me says I’m making up answers now cos my human brain isn’t structured to deal with there being none, especially when I’m tired, and it’s probably my own poor decision-making at work.

Meanwhile, my inner Sensualist reckons if I just get out of bed and have a nice breakfast, this would no longer be an issue.

Yes. That is the one to listen to. :)