It’s Sunday morning, and I’m feeling much better, thank you. Last week was just, well, dramatic. I’ve never had a Friday night where I felt so utterly exhausted before, so rung out. I know work shake-ups are bound to happen, but I felt very unprepared for this one. I’m not quite sure what to expect now. While I had occasional differences with my boss, for the most part she was a wonderful mentor, a hard worker, consistently encouraging and optimistic, and very understanding regarding vacation, sick-leave, family emergencies, etc. This is how a conversation with our new Vice President went on Friday:
VP: I don’t believe in sick days. I am NEVER sick, and I don’t expect my employees to be either. Unless you need hospitalization, you come to work.
Old Boss (who was in this meeting): Well, we work in a hospital, around children and cancer patients. Which means we are exposed to a lot of germs from the children, and also that we are required to stay home if we are sick, so as not to expose those with compromised immune systems to our germs.
VP: Well, not anymore. I guess you’ll all just have to not get sick.
First of all, no one in our department takes much sick time, maybe a day here or there, occasionally more if the virus is particularly nasty. But despite the most diligent hand-washing and vitamin-C taking, when you work in a hospital with sick people (we share wards with the general hospital, so everything from gunshot wounds to pnemonia come through our doors) you are bound to occasionally catch something. Our intern has strep throat right now, as a matter of fact. What’s more, it’s morally irresponsible to expose others to the infectious periods of illness. So, this is just one example of our new administration, but so far I don’t have a good feeling, not at all. We are losing a gifted, wonderful leader. I still intend to keep my mind open (I won’t tell you how much peanut butter toast and sleep it took to get me to this point), but warily so.
Of course, with resignations and new administrations, work is pushed to the wayside and I attended meetings galore last week and now I am further behind than ever, and I leave for vacation on Thursday. At first I felt trepidatious about taking vacation during all of the upheaval but now I am incredibly thankful. I’m no longer even nervous that I don’t know the language or my way around the country, in fact, that seems delightful – no one can talk to me in any way that I could understand. I’ll be eating entirely new food, seeing new sights, and blissfully ignorant of the chatter around me. Thrilling! Before I was simply excited about my trip – now I feel like I innately NEED it.
It’s 11:05 on Sunday morning, and I am still in my pajamas. This weekend I slept a total of 19 hours already, not including naps. I ate four pieces of toast with peanut butter in jelly, leftover pizza, a hamburger, a sweet potatoe, cauliflower, and wine. I cleaned our downstairs and did all of the laundry. I tend to tape a lot of television during the week, and watch whatever suits me on the weekend. I watched: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Men in Trees, and Jericho. I erased without watching Heroes, Ugly Betty, My Name is Earl and Six Degrees. S. brought home three c.d.’s from the library – we listened to an old Rolling Stones, James Blunt (which we took out on song three) and Warren Zevon’s final album. Oh, I also watched to episodes of the Sopranos. I’m somewhere in season four. I finished The Cell by Stephen King (that was the ending, really? Really? I’ll blog about this at a later date). I did not exercise.
Today I must: pay bills, clean the upstairs, have dinner with A., run (if I do I’ll still be on track with my marathon training), continue to pack, and make food to take to work for lunch this week. The difference between yesterday and today? Today the sun is out. Today I am well-rested. Today is a new week, and today is Sunday, my very favorite day of the week. And today I begin the week in Michigan, and end it in Tuscany, which is all kinds of great.
Oh, so far for my vacation reading I’m taking The Crimson Petal and the White, bikeprof’s novel, and the new addition of Narrative magazine. Any other suggestions? I’ve never been to Europe…can anyone recommend a great book about, or taking place, in Italy?