I start by acknowledging that if I were a reasonable woman, I would already be snuggled betwixt flannel sheets, luxuriating in the smell of cedar from the storage closet mingled with a faint whiff of fabric softener from last spring when I packed away the softness of so many shades of blue and white.

Another interesting day at the office.  I was able to practice my "leadership skills" and get a back office once closed off in anticipation of conversion to an exam room opened up and available to use.  It's more private space in which to obtain blood pressuresand do the patient interview.  I took the step further of having Erik bring my portable massage table to the office and setting it up there so we might have a spare table on which to do EKG's should the other rooms be in use.  I even put together a portable BP cuff so we would have the additional equipment needed to make the multiple rooms useable prior to the more permanent hardware being set up.  I accomplished a lot.  And I know it sounds like,"look at me, I'm so great"  because it is,"Look at me, there was a problem, I fixed it."  There is so much stressing people in that office that it's hard for anyone to get creative.  And if one does start thinking outside of the awfulcizing and catastrophizing, the other negative currents start to well up, grasping to drag one down by the ankles.

So why don't I feel better about how today went? Probably because I've been obsessed all afternoon and evening with thinking my itching winter dry skin is from the scabies I was exposed to not once, twice but thrice.  I'm sure I can feel little bugs burrowing under my skin.  Itchy, itchy, scratchy scratchy.  Chewing away at me.  Setting up winter quarters where there's plenty of nourishing blood and dead skin cells.  I feel so easily depleted from the surge of inspiration and exasperation that helped to accomplish the rudimentary set up of an exam space- primitive compared to the exam tables that will be coming in any day now- that I am wiped again.  It took all I could do to summon a dinner together from a box of macaroni & cheese, tuna and peas and some fontina and parmesan.  Very little inspiration there.  I suppose it will come with rest and time. 

I find myself wondering how people endure jobs that are stressful and somehow demoralizing even when it's the only choice available.  I am paid sufficiently.  Fortunately, I don't have a job that is stressful and pays minimum wage or less.  I honestly wish I knew what makes people do the job, come home, do the chores, go to bed at a decent hour, sleep well and then arise to do it all again.  I want to stay up late because I want the time for myself.  Although, lately my dream life is more amazing than daytime wakened life.  Maybe I'd be better off spending more time in my dreams.  They edge away from me and never cling enough to the sleep in my eyes to mean more in the daylight hours. 

I'm prattling.  Suffice it to say that tomorrow I will once more wrap myself in my white and gold lightened bubble to protect myself as best I may from the onslaught of negativity.  Here's hoping for a more peaceful tomorrow.

Blessings abound