Flickr and Sharing and Design, oh, my. *pukes*

Okay.

This is what goes through my mind, after working the past 25 out of 26 days. (And the one day I didn't work, I stayed home because people were sick)

I sit and think to myself, "This is what causes road rage--people being short of temper because they have had no sleep, no time to relax, no quality time with family. This is the reason people freak out in the grocery store if a blue-haired old lady buts in line and checks out 16 items in the 15-item express lane. This is the reason people are so rude to each other. It must also be the reason for tabloid tv--people don't want to even expend the energy to watch a tv program that asks them to think at all."

That's what I thought, just today.

I have been working 7 days since August 16. The one day I took "off" was to care for my ill family. I have not sunk my butt in the bathtub since then. And I make soap! No, I barely have time for showers.

And because of the Judeo-Christian ethic instilled in me since birth, I sit and think, "You should count your blessings. You are smart enough to have a business that is moderately successful, and a job that has benefits. You should be grateful that things are going so well that you have to work 7 days." What kind of a twisted thought process is that?

I should be grateful that I have the privilege of working myself to death?

And in the next mental breath, I begin saying to myself, "When you were in undergrad, you worked 7 days. You worked for school or you worked for money, and you never had a day off. You can do this."

"Yeah," I reply to my quickly-becoming-demented self, "But I didn't have a kid, then. And I wasn't married. I could nap on any given afternoon, if I chose. I no longer have that choice."

So working 7 days will cause a person to rationalize with oneself. As if I had a choice in the matter.

And so I will continue to get up every day and work. I hope those of you who have two whole days off each weekend will forgive me if I forget to email or call you back. The markets will be over in about 8 weeks.


p.s. what's with the headline, you say? Yeah, I had a train of thought, but didn't get around to it. I was thinking that I don't have time to load my photos onto flickr, or change the design of my blog, or any other fun thing online, because that must be the realm of those who live in luxury. Which, of course, is anyone who works one minute less than me. Because today I am whiny.