Lately I have been very unorganised and procrastinating doing anything remotely productive in all areas of my life, normally a sign of extreme stress for me. I'm sure most of this has been caused by recent upheavals at work. Profits are off significantly in other divisions of the publicly held company I work for and layoffs have started in all groups, even mine which is the ONLY profitable division and running ahead of projections. I had to lay off three members of my team in the past two weeks and despite assurances from the top brass, I don't think they are over. This stress has been combined with the stress of having a new director of my brand who I don't seem to have made a connection with, well a favourable connection with that is. All this means I am to say least worrying about my job. Which I need. Especially since my salary IS the salary that is the constant in our household (MBH is a consultant and computer security programmer who works contract to contract). Without it, MBH and LB will not be able to be kept in the style to which they have become accustomed (not to mention NSTAR won't get their money for all the AC we have been using the past few weeks). Stress has taken over my work life.
Of course, being the high strung Type A person I am, I have been bringing this stress home with me causing MBH and I to be at odds most of the time. I know he mutters "b#$%^" under his breath when I berate him for not putting the dishes in the dishwasher during the day (he works from home most of the time and gets lost in his work. Being chronologically challenged he doesn't realise the time and despite best intentions to do so, forgets) or for not taking the empties out to the recycling bin. I don't want to be a harpy and nag, he isn't doing these things to spite me. I even tell myself on my long commute home, made longer lately by all the bleep, bleep, bleepin' idiots....um, I mean fellow commuters, who can't use the Big Dig right now because of the ceiling collapse in one of the tunnels and are now over-running every other route in and out of Boston, that I will NOT say anything when faced with dishes in the sink or three bottles on the table when I walk into the back door. But I just can't seem to help myself. Yesterday it was a full out melt down and right now we are barely civil to each other. I'm sure if he could, he would pack LB into a duffel bag and take himself out of the line of fire. I'm awful thankful he hasn't but...
This longer than normal commute and the extra hours I'm putting in at work trying to keep my department below the radar of the head mucky-mucks (not to mention trying to find a way to show the new director I DO know what I'm doing) has meant that I have had absolutely no time to cook like I want to in the evening. Cooking for us is one of my major stress relievers. I putter in the kitchen, catch up on podcasts, and try new things in my quest to introduce MBH to a new food group. Now, it is fix whatever is quick, throw it on a plate, toss it at MBH, clean up and go to bed. No time for reading or catching up (not that MBH is speaking to me). No time to post a blog entry or finish the four drafts I have started. The only thing productive I've done the past two weeks is clean the bathroom.
So, today, what do I do? I unload in my blog. This post started out as a "catch-up". I had a paragraph about the cupcakes and scones I made to order for a friend's baby shower (complete with pictures). I was going to tell you about this other really odd hobby of mine, ship watching, and not little boats either but 700 foot plus lake freighters on the Great Lakes. I was going tell you about the phone call I got from the middle of Lake Superior yesterday from a friend working one of the Lakers (The Reserve) while he stood on the bow and talked over the fog horn from the ship (very cool!). I was going post a picture of LB and his attempts to help me make the bed this morning. Do I do any of this? No, I vent and rant.
At least my bathroom is clean...