A Case of the Monday’s

I’m sorry, I’m just too exhausted to help you today.

I had a lovely weekend.

The wife and I watched movies, did yard work, and walked the dogs numerous times. We low-key celebrated a friend's birthday and made gluten-free pizza. I got plenty of rest, exfoliated my skin, and read 3 chapters of a fairly good suspense-filled novel.

As I said, It was lovely — the kind of weekend that should have been rejuvenating. I should have jumped out of bed this morning and greeted the day with enthusiasm and appreciation.

Instead, when I felt the dogs stirring and heard my wife get up to pee, I huddled deeper into the covers and pretended to still be asleep.

The days I have to get up, get dressed, and log into work feel harder and harder to face.

Not because I’m lazy or anything like that.

I’m simply exhausted.

My work isn’t physically demanding, but the emotional and mental output required to do my job, and do it well, has become overwhelming.

The funny thing is, just a few years ago, when I was still working in a restaurant 14 hours a day, feet aching, back screaming, red-faced and sweaty from running plates, bussing tables, and hollering at the expo line, I dreamed of working from home.