December 11, 2005
It’s one of those Sunday nights when instead of enjoying my last few hours of freedom from the office, I’m feeling tense and anxious for no good reason. I don’t think it’s because I didn’t get everything done on my to do list–I never expected to when I wrote it out Saturday morning. I don’t think it’s because I had to decide on my annual charitable contributions–I know I can’t support every organization that asks, even if they send me pretty address labels or personalized notepaper. I’m not fighting with anyone important to me, so it’s not that. I don’t have any big deadlines looming at work this week, so it’s not that either.
Whatever it is, it’s making my stomach tight and my shoulders rigid and the end of my weekend less than relaxing. I wish I had a good answer for Mr. Karen when he asked if there was anything he could do. “Help me snap out of it,” is not really a useful request. I self-medicated before dinner with a spoonful of peanut butter, but that’s obviously only a short-term solution. Watching NFL Primetime cheered me up, too, but that’s not going to work come February (and what’s this I hear about it not being the Chris and Tommy show after this year? that’s distressing, too). Writing about it is not helping, so I’m going to stop.
One year ago, no entry.
Two years ago, I was not here. I was skiing.
Three years ago, I did a proper trip report about being in Colorado.