My colleagues are good enough to know that, during opera season, we need a little bit of space. Our priorities are all about the company and whack-a-mole, and long-range planning and interdepartmental collaboration tend to take a bit of a back seat.
And to their credit, they usually give us a day or two of breathing room after the final show before asking us to meet with them - to address all of the things they've been eager to tackle but haven't, out of deference to our crazy schedule. But the day always arrives when the reprieve ends, when the questions need to be asked and answered, when the big picture needs to be sorted out.
That day was Thursday for me.
And I was NOT ready.
I'd love to say that I rolled with the punches, but in fact I skipped a meeting, ate my weight in Tums, grumped with a friend over IM and yelled profanities (yep. yelled. even those of the big grandaddy F-word variety) from the safety of my office. (Not at anyone, certainly, but I fear that our gentle volunteer FM will never look at me in quite the same way.) At 5:01pm I stormed out of the office and drove to the gym, determined to exorcise (exercise?) my demons.
I behaved badly.
I have feeble excuses for my actions...I was overtired. The adrenalin had left the building. I needed to go somewhere other than work and the grocery store. The truth is, even though I don't have my feet quite underneath me from the season's end, I should be professional enough to occasionally prioritize someone else's needs above my own. Right?
I think I need a day or two away from work to actually be able to do that. If you need me, you know where I'll be.
- Lush bath bombs.
- Cool breezes in August.
- Laughing with friends.
- Window shopping.
- Getting back to my reading list.