Let me start simply, earlier this week I picked up a shift for a co-worker, no big deal, right?
Well, in doing this, I tuned my four day qwork week into a five day, but not a five day week like my last one, it was broken up into groups of days I had to work in a row, so I didn't think about it much.
as I was talllying up my hours for the week tonight at the end of my shift today, the number kept mounting. Until I finished.
I looked at the sheet after I had written my total hours for the week.
"holy shit." I whispered to myself.
42 hours.
I worked 42 hours and didn't even realize it.
I have been tired this week, but I attributed that to staying up too lat and having an almost four year old child who's really excited about getting up too early in the morning, you know, the same reason regular people get tired.
The more I thought about my work week all I could think about was this self-pitying and whiny post from three years ago and hoe different things are now.
Then it sunk in; I have officially taken my life back, the stroke hasn't taken anything from me .
And, in the words of my incomparable co-worker, Brett, I made this week my bitch.
boo-ya, stroke, take that!
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