I feel depressed. Not really, but enough to give me a headache and make me whiny. I shouldn't feel this way because my job is finally picking up for a few weeks and soccer season is over so I get to see a lot more of my husband, but I do. I think the underlying reason for it is because I need a vacation. I'm trying not to use any of my annual or sick leave just in case family planning decides to go awry, and am building up comp time to use in lieu of leave. I haven't built up very much yet, and that is frustrating. For the last month or so, not only have I not been able to take more than a few hours off, my weekends have been very full and the next few don't seem to be any different. They will be a little more relaxing, hopefully, with getting together with family and friends, but still. I want a weekend in my sweats to clean and organize and decorate and cook. I keep hoping that maybe things will slow down, but then something "fun" comes up every time. Like this last weekend. I was left to my own devices, to do what I want, but of course, I think driving an hour to a football game will be "fun." Not. Not only did we lose, but only three people I was interested in seeing were there, the tailgate that I made brownies and cookies for never materialized, I got blocked in, and my cold got worse. And it was my idea. And then I complain, because I am an idiot. Maybe December will be different. (Yeah, right, I know.)
At least election season is over now, so my TV will return to its normal state. I do have that to look forward to.
Also in better news, my husband has discovered how to program the coffee maker. And the angels sang "Alleluia."
12 hours ago