Y’all, I’m tired.

There, I said it.

This past week has been exhausting on multiple levels.

At work, I clocked a 12-hour day Wednesday while a co-photog was out on furlough, and while I was let go early Friday afternoon so my overtime would not be needed, I’m still tired from that late night that ended around 2:30 a.m. Thursday morning. At least I didn’t have to be in for 9, right?

I’ve slept a lot this weekend, but I cannot shake that feeling.

This afternoon, I heard about drama in the form of a Christmas card. Surprising, right? I usually get one call a week from a specific someone in my life about the screwy things another specific someone in my life has done. Today was no exception, and learning about how my name was signed onto that card makes me a little crazy. Especially after hearing what photo was used.

And that? Makes me tired.

I’m generally a happy-go-lucky person. I don’t particularly like to complain. Generally speaking, I’m content with my station in life. But I’ve noticed a significant change in my attitude over the past few weeks. And it all started with that awesome roundhouse kick.

My first furlough day is Friday, and I’m counting down the days until my break. This weekend was supposed to be a four day weekend for me since I’m switching to the weekend shift, and I’ve added two furlough days — one Friday and one the following Wednesday. So I’m going to be spending quite some time in Nashville.

I hope this time off helps me refocus. I hope I can regain some of the spirit I’ve apparently lost over the past few weeks. And I hope I am less beaten down when I come back to my little town.

Five days and counting…