April 18, 2009

Empty tanks

I'm exhausted. I thought I was having a relatively cruisy week with only one deadline to meet on Friday, rather than the three or five I've been working to for weeks. But then I took on a cafe review and another story that needs to be turned around quick-smart and my dictaphone refused to work during the interview and there were four of them all talking at me at once and my shorthand is shoddy at the best of times. It just all got a bit much and on Friday I started to Freak Out about my workload. Anyway, I am exhausted. Possibly ill with something. But feeling ill with something seems to have become a way of life. I'm eating a good breakfast, and a good dinner thanks to the Postie's culinary imagination but I eat nothing but nuts, bananas and junk at work. It's really rather bad. I send H off to creche with the Healthiest Lunch Ever but then I chow down on pies and whatever comes out of the vending machine on my floor. It's dire. Right after I finish this piece of cake I'm going to do something about it.
In other news, Easter was awesome. Good Friday we went to the beach, dug in the sand, stepped in froizing cold water, and fell asleep with sandy bits all over. Easter Sunday we started the day with a mountain bike ride, me freaking out about falling off the track and into gorse, H behind me whooping and squealing with delight oblivious to danger. Then Sweeney went up for a ride with Postie and he demanded P go faster, do more skids etc. Think we have two future MTB boys on our hands.


Nomadic Emma said...

I hear ya. I had a lazy moment the other evening when I went to make myself toast for dinner, only to realise that I had already had toast for breakfast and lunch. Not cool.

Ange said...

Sweeney's last words tonight before he went to sleep were "Joe's going to pick me up from Elim".