On burnout

Today was my first day back to work after 11 glorious days off. Vacation is an amazing thing and I am so grateful that I have a job which provides me with a very generous amount of vacation time. I realize this is a luxury and for once I took full advantage of it by not logging in to work to check e-mails (usually I say I'm not going to but then I do anyway).

I read four or five books. Knit a couple hats. Watched the entire first season of Bones, plus finished watching Charmed (the first seasons were so much better than the last few), watched a bunch of movies, slept in, went back to bed some mornings to sleep more, did some shopping, oh and of course went to Maine for a few days. I needed all of that. Very very badly.

Today at work wasn't as bad as I was expecting. All hell did not break loose for a change which is usually what happens when I go on vacation. I only had about 380 e-mails to deal with which was fewer than I was expecting. There were no huge crises and no frantic voicemails. In fact, I didn't have a single voice mail waiting for me. I spent the morning catching up on the doings in the office while I was gone (yes, it did take most of the morning, I work with a lot of people and there's a lot going on right now). And I even managed to get my inbox down to a reasonable number of items to deal with tomorrow.

Before I get to the point of this post I should note that I like my job. At least for the most part. There are parts I don't enjoy, but really, who doesn't have at least some part of their job that they don't like? I'm not challenged by it all day every day, but I think I'm okay with that. I really like the people I work with. Again, at least for the most part. I think the work we do is valuable and that means a lot to me.

Now, my point. I decided on my drive home tonight that I'm burned out. Let me (or should I say the dictionary program on my laptop) define burn out for you:

burnout |ˈbərnˌout|
noun
1 the reduction of a fuel or substance to nothing through use or combustion : good carbon burnout | [as adj. ] a burnout furnace.
2 physical or mental collapse caused by overwork or stress : high levels of professionalism that may result in burnout | you'll suffer a burnout.
• informal a dropout or drug abuser, esp. a teenage one.
3 failure of an electrical device or component through overheating : [with adj. ] an antistall mechanism prevents motor burnout.

Number 2 above fits me to a t. I honestly am not sure how much longer I can keep my head above water. No, that's not exactly right. I can always keep my head above water. It's more like I'm not sure how much longer I can go on before I snap. Before something gives. And I don't want that something to be my sanity. And it every day it feels more and more like that's what IS going to give.

I should not leave work (an hour after quitting time) on the first day after a vacation with a headache, the stress chest I had before vacation, and near tears. I should still be basking in the beauty and relaxation that is vacation. To be honest I was fighting back wracking sobs of, I don't exactly know, frustration?, stress?, dissatisfaction?, while Maggie and I were walking this evening. I mean the tears were leaking out of my eyes, my nose was all snotty and I was really really hoping not to run into any of my neighbors because I'm pretty confident that they'd be able to tell something was wrong and yeah, not sure the "oh, just a little allergy attack" response would have fooled either of us. Pretty sure that's not normal. Or good.

Maybe it's just reentry into work like after so many days off. Maybe I'm dehydrated. Maybe the stars are aligned all funny or something. I know it's not hormones. Most likely I'm simply burned out. And now that I've admitted it I need to do something about it. Take some sort of step(s) to fix it. I'm just not sure what that step(s)
is yet.

So, lyrics. Right then. Can't think of a burnout song so, we're going to go with some tried and true Rent. Because, well a) it's Rent and b) it's also fitting for my non-work life (Mark, Mark, I'm Mark!) and c) it's been stuck in my head for days now. From Goodbye Love:

Mark: Hey, for somebody who's always been let down
who's heading out of town?

Roger: For someone who longs for a community of his own,
who's with his camera, alone?

I'm so bad at titles

I'm also apparently bad at blogging lately. I'd like to tell you it's because I'm journaling and therefore don't need to blog, but really I've just been lazy (and totally exhausted after work) and not making the effort I should be making. So, here's me making the effort.

I'm on vacation. Vacation is amazing and I was very overdue for one. I'm really not sure where the months of May and June went. Or even the beginning of July. I think I spent pretty much all of them at work. Which is tiring, especially after a long winter and spring at work. So, yeah, I was more than ready for some time off.

I was in Maine for a few days this week. I love Maine. Let me repeat. I. LOVE. MAINE. I fantasize about moving there. In my fantasy world I just sort of pick up the life I have here in Connecticut and plop it down on a scenic coastal town. The exact location in Maine isn't all that important so long as there's easy access to a beach for me to walk on. Because this:



makes me incredibly happy. And peaceful. And centered.

My last evening in Maine we had an amazing thunderstorm. I've always loved a good storm and where we stay we had a nearly perfect view of the storm for about 180 degrees. Lightening was flashing all around us and I was as delighted by it as a toddler to whom everything is new and exciting. And yes, I did clap my hands like said toddler when a particularly brilliant bolt of lightening sizzled through the sky. If I could have been standing out in the middle of the marsh watching the storm I would have been.

My mother watched most of the storm with me. She also likes a good storm, though the really amazing flashes of lightening tended to make her move away from the sliding door through which we were watching the storm. I, on the other hand, leaned even more forward so as not to miss a single streak of lightening flashing through the sky. I might have left forehead prints on the glass. I will neither confirm nor deny this. I don't know what I find so refreshing about storms, but they totally recharge me. I find them incredibly powerful and romantic (that's a topic for a whole other post I suppose).

I can't wait to go back to Maine (though a different part) in September. I have a feeling I will definitely need another recharge by then. I'm looking very much forward to sitting next to the water at night (with or without a drink or three) and watching the stars. There may or may not be deep and meaningful conversation involved. That probably depends on how many drinks are imbibed. Regardless, I'm looking very forward to it.

The rest of this current vacation is being spent at home. Which is also great because I missed my dog terribly. And my cats too of course. But really, cats are so much more independent than dogs so I don't worry about them as much when I leave. I worry about Maggie. More than I should probably admit to, but I don't care. It was fantastic to come home to a happy dog and cats who missed me (even if that does make sleeping difficult for the first night because everyone has to be as close as possible to me in bed. And also Sunshine HAS to bathe right next to me as I start to fall asleep. Happens EVERY time I'm away from home for even one night. Trying to fall asleep to the slurping sounds of a cat bath is not easy for me who can hear a pin drop in freaking Bermuda when I'm trying to fall asleep. I always have to kick him off the bed once or twice in order to get to sleep. It's our routine. We both understand this is going to happen and we both pretend like we don't know it's going to.).

Thus far on vacation I've read three books (started a fourth today) and have done pretty much nothing. I'm really trying to stick with the relaxing and doing only little, easy projects this vacation. I want to enjoy it not and enjoy my house (see previous post about that). We'll see how the next five days go. I have a feeling I'm going to get antsy soon, but we'll see.

So, there's my update for now. Time for bed since my eyes are burning and the yawning is getting out of hand. Looking forward to yet another no alarm clock morning tomorrow. And because I'm on vacation, well, there's no song for today. Because when one is on vacation one is allowed to be lazy and I'm doing my best to embrace my inner laziness. And as I wrote about there being no song for this post Annie Lennox's Why popped up on the radio. Fitting.

Home sweet home

I realized recently that for the past six years I have either:

- been looking for a house to buy
- been in the process of buying said house
- been moving from one house to another
- been fixing up said house

And really, you can probably go back another three years to include the condo since that required re-painting, finishing the basement, new fixtures and some gardening.

So, for at least six (and perhaps nine depending how you count) years I haven't simply enjoyed where I lived. There was always something else going on whether it was going to see new potential places to live or dealing with mortgage companies and movers or going home, putting on grungy clothes and getting down to it (whatever 'it' happened to be that week, taming an over grown garden, ripping down wallpaper, painting, etc., etc., etc.).

Can I just say my god that's tiring y'all? All that work with only a little play wears a person out. Oh, and of course there was also working at my job full time while trying to advance my career thrown on top of all that.

I still have a ways to go in my current house before it's "done." But most of what's left to do are the big projects (re-doing the kitchen and the poodle bathroom, new windows, etc.). And for those big projects you typically need big money and I simply do not have it. I barely have the little money some days let alone big money.

That means I'm at the point now where I get to sit back, relax and enjoy my house. Only I don't know how to do that without feeling guilty for not DOING something. I will sit on my couch after a very long day at work and think "I should be doing something. Why am I not DOING something?!" And I'm not even Catholic. Can you imagine the guilt then? Oy!

I'm trying to let the guilt go. I'm trying to not see all the little imperfections I need to deal with. I'm trying to ignore the 3,000 miles of trim I still need to paint and the bare walls which need art hung in the guest room and the family room. I'm trying to ignore the back "flower beds" which are overrun with grass and weeds. But it's hard to do. The lack of motivation to deal with these things helps a bit, but that ebbs and flows and the guilt, the guilt is always there.

So, this long holiday weekend I'm going to do my best to enjoy my home. To enjoy it guilt free. To do the fun things (as well as some not as fun things like vacuuming, I abhor vacuuming). We'll see how it goes, but you have to start somewhere right?

I'm going to be lazy and not bother with a "house" song for this post. Go ahead and hum the national anthem to yourself. "Oh, say can you see...."

Update

In case you were wondering, I decided to live in the present and let the past stay in the past. It was the right thing to do and I'm glad I did. I guess in the land of the Bard I would have chosen "to be" over "not to be." But again, that was someone else's question, not mine.

Coincidence or a sign?

Last night I had a dream about FMHW (who is, for those new to the blog, my last girlfriend and somewhat the reason I started baring my soul on the interwebs). I use those initials (which are not her initials) to protect her anonymity. Because I'm thoughtful like that. And because really, the point is not who she is exactly, merely that she is at all.

Right then, the dream. Last night I dreamed I was with a couple friends on vacation. We stopped in to this tiny little mom and pop restaurant (I'm talking like 5 tables total) for dinner. We were seated and low and behold but who should be at the next table, the one directly beside me? Yeah, FMHW. She was wearing a white t-shirt with a light green cardigan over it. The cardigan was the same color as her car in real life. My dreams are all about the details (like this one, and this one)

She and I talked. I don't know about what, in fact I'm not sure we even really talked in the dream or if I just had the impression that we did. Time passed and I guess we all ate, but in the way of dreams I couldn't tell you what we all had or how the service was or anything like that. All I can remember is that she excused herself to do something (bathroom? talk to the cook? I don't know) and my friends had now morphed into my parents (because really, that totally happens in real life). And my parents were ready to leave. I told them I'd meet them at the car and I went searching for FMHW because we hadn't finished talking. There was this total sense of something not being finished.

And in the way of dreams the little mom and pop restaurant was now undergoing construction (mostly in the kitchen area) and was also now a post office. And apparently I was interfering with the distribution of the mail by looking for FMHW because the workers were very displeased with me. I looked all over for her, but I couldn't find her. She just seemed to have disappeared into thin air (or escaped out the back). And so I left, walked outside to meet my parents feeling that feeling you feel when you know there was supposed to be more of something but that didn't happen (how many feels can you use in a sentence??). Disappointment, a little frustration, confusion for sure with a touch of hurt mixed in.

And then I woke up in a full on, full body sweat. It was 3 am, no where near time for me to be getting up for work, so I peeled the covers off a bit to cool down, rolled over and went back to sleep where I proceeded to have another strange dream of which I remember fewer details, but I know it was work stress related. There was yelling at a cashier involved when the greeting card I was buying morphed into a $48 piece of jewelery. I think it was a necklace. But that's all I really remember about it now.

So, I went off to work this morning thinking "boy, that was a strange night. So much for going to bed early so I get a good night's sleep." And that was that. I had a busy day at work, as they all are this time of year and didn't give my dreams another thought as I raced from meeting to problem solving to meeting to answering questions and putting out fires to another meeting to answering e-mails and voice mails and so on and so forth.

Not another thought, that is, until I was driving home and drove by FMHW. I haven't driven by her since the fall sometime I think. And I pass where she works twice a day five days a week while driving to and from work. And today, the day after the night where I dreamed about her (wearing a sweater the same color as her car) I drive by her. WTF? Is this a coincidence? Is it a sign? Is the universe fucking with me? Again? I don't know what to make of this really. Because what is the probability of that happening statistically speaking? No really, I'm serious. What are the chances?

So, now I'm sitting here wondering if I should e-mail her to say hello or if I should leave the past completely in the past. The last time I dreamed about her (two times in like a week or something crazy) I said to myself "Okay, if it happens again then you write her." Well, I'd call this happening again. Do I listen to myself or not? Stay in the present or fall back to the past? To be or not to be, that is the question. Wait, no, that's someone else's story sorry. Back to me.

I don't know what I should do. And when you don't know what to do the best thing to do is nothing. Or is it? Rock, Jess, Hard Place. Or something like that.

The lyrics for this post are from Rachael Yamagata's Be Be Your Love. This is a song I'll probably always associate with FWHM. Not for the obvious reasons of falling in love and not being able to be with the person you fell in love with. More so because at the time we were dating it was on both of our Top 25 most played songs playlists in our each of our iTunes. And it, of course, came up on shuffle on my iPod on my way home from work. WTF Universe? Is all this a coincidence or is it a sign? And if it's a sign what am I supposed to do with it?

If I could take you away
Pretend I was queen
What would you say
Would you think I'm unreal
'Cause everybody's got their way I should feel

Everybody's talking how I, can't, can't be your love
But I want, want, want to be your love
Want to be your love, for real
Everybody's talking how I, can't, can't be your love
But I want, want, want to be your love
Want to be your love for real
Want to be your everything

Everything...

Everything's falling and I am included in that
Oh, how I try to be just okay
Yeah, but all I ever really wanted
Was a little piece of you

Nostalgia

I'm feeling nostalgic tonight. This weekend is reunion weekend at my alma mater, Wells College. A school I loved with all my heart and soul. A small woman's college that sat directly on a lake.



The above is our boathouse and the dock I spent many an hour watching the stars from. I would love to be there now.

I arrived at Wells in the fall of 199X and didn't leave for four solid years. I stayed in town during the summer and worked at the college. I knew the school inside and out. It's the place where I discovered myself and grew so much as a person and where I learned so many valuable life skills (and also I sometimes went to class and learned there too). It was home to me. When coming into town you see the bell tower before you see anything else. I always knew I was home when I could see the bell tower.



But the college of my memories is no longer. Five and a half years ago alumnae got the notification that the following fall the college would be going co-ed. And as if that wasn't bad enough it was going co-ed under the leadership of a fellow alumna. A sister. I am still bitter.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not against co-education. I'm against my school being co-ed. Because by going co-ed it lost it's niche. See, down the lake there's a very large very prestigious university (ahem, I'm looking at you Cornell) and a larger co-ed liberal arts college (and now I'm looking at you Ithaca College). Up the lake there is another large university (known as the home of the Orangemen). Across the lake another co-ed liberal arts college (yeah, you might never have heard of this one so never mind). Not to mention the countless other institutions of higher learning in a pretty small radius. What made Wells unique, being a woman's college, is now no more.

And the reason we were told it was going co-ed was because it was going to bring in more money. Bring in the revenue to save the school. That hasn't happened. The future for the college looks bleak (perhaps the most bleak it has ever looked) and the alumna president, a fellow sister, is still at the helm of this sinking ship. And this makes me sad and angry but mostly sad.

The Wells of my memories will live on forever. But the Wells of today, well, I wouldn't be surprised to see it's doors closed for good in the next five years. Thankfully I've been out of school long enough that my work experience speaks for itself on my resume. But imagine having a degree from a school that just shut it's doors in this job market or when trying to get into grad school? Wow. I imagine that would suck.

Through the miracle that is Facebook I understand that the president's address at reunion was more of the same line of bullshit the administration has been feeding us for as long as I can remember. How can people not see that a regime change is in order? How can the board of trustees not see the downward spiral the college has taken since madam alumna has been president? Madam completely fucking unqualified alumna that is. One likes to be accurate when one is referencing professional titles. It's is beyond infuriating. Particularly so for me because working at a college I've seen first hand how much good a change in leadership can do for a school that's having financial difficulties.

And the sad thing is that there are so many talented alumnae, so many of us with skills and know how to help. But no one will listen. They don't want to hear what we have to say. Instead they force through a "strategic plan" that's more of the same old same old (which has been oh so effective for the last decade or so). They can't go co-ed again, but I'm sure if they could they'd be doing it in a heartbeat.

Anyhow, I'm feeling nostalgic for my time at Wells tonight. Nostalgic for the fun (and sometimes not so much fun) I had with the beautiful, talented, strong, funny, intelligent, kind, caring, generous, you name it women, no not just women, sisters, that I spent those four years with. They are some of the most incredible and amazing people I have ever met. And though it's not my reunion year I know many of my friends are in Aurora this weekend. Listening to the bullshit coming from the administration. But also reliving their time there (and if I know my sisters having a drink or five down at the Fargo). I imagine those four years had a profound impact on all of us. I know they certainly did for me.

And yes, I know, everyone's college experience is special in it's own way. But I can guarantee you that no one else's experience was like ours. There was just something so special about it. And that's another thing which makes me sad. The generations of young women who won't get to experience that specialness like we did. Henry Wells is rolling over and over and over in his grave right now I imagine. If he'd intended to start a co-ed school he'd have done so. Or better yet, just gone to work at Cornell with his buddy Ezra. But no, he had a vision and that vision was a woman's college. And an alumna destroyed it.

I could go on and on and on about this. Seriously, for like days and days I could go on. I try not to think about it at all most of the time because I get so sad and so angry. But sometimes you just gotta let it out. Sometimes you swim in the dark waters of your anger and nostalgia and long for the days when you could walk out your dorm room door at any time of the day or night and always find someone to talk to. And yeah, you might still have been lonely, but you were never ever alone. Long for the days when you were still hopeful that this still new alumna president would be good for the college you loved so dearly. When your rose colored glasses were still firmly planted on the bridge of your nose instead of lying shattered and broken on the floor.

There are two songs for this post. First up is the alma mater. The REAL alma mater, not the one they're using now with the words changed. That song will NEVER be my alma mater.

Fair Wells with loyal hearts
Thy DAUGHTERS ever sing
And to the name we love
Thy joyous tributes bring

And Wells, dear Wells we shout in singing
To thee our songs we raise
Thee would we ever praise
Our alma mater, dear alma mater!

To thee our songs we raise
Thee would we ever praise
Our alma mater, Beloved Wells!

And here's the one we sang to congratulate one of our sisters for something, for anything really.

Oh (name) we sing to you
You are so good and true
We'll all be loyal to you
We raise your name
And praise you to
And so we sing to dear old Wells
And you! Hey!

Both songs end in a fist pump by the way. Because we're classy like that.

It's Wednesday and

I love lilies.