The weekend is winding down and as I'm enjoying my evening watching Super Troopers, the voice at the back of my brain is reminding me that another work week is about to start up and that in less than 12 hours, I'll be back at my desk.
This annoys me. Not because I don't like my job - my job is decent and the people I work with are very nice. No, what annoys me is that my brain doesn't understand that I don't need to think about work at this moment. I could just enjoy the evening and the ridiculous movie and then go to sleep; I'd have a good evening and then a restful sleep and then go to work ready to kick butt - well, by kick butt I mean "do work appropriate and related activities" - and everything is perfect.
But no. My brain says "it is panic mode time. You have work in under 12 hours so you must start preparing from this minute forward. What will you wear this week? What will you bring for your lunches? Do you know where your cell phone charger is? Can you accurately predict everything that your manager will ask you to do tomorrow?"
This is probably why at least 75% of my Sunday night dreams involve me being late for work and desperately trying to get to work but being unable to get there.
Maybe that's a lie. It's probably closer to 90%.
This is probably also why when I worked part time, I preferred morning shifts to evening shifts - when I had an evening shift, the whole other part of my day was marred by knowing I had to go to work and worrying that I would be late and unprepared if I did anything like go to the mall or hang out with friends.
Originally this was supposed to be a rant about house buying shows where people are unsatisfied with kitchens because the appliances are black instead of stainless steel, but I guess that's going to be for another day, since all of my clocks are starting to look like kinda messed up and it's making it hard to concentrate and write.