ups and downs of twelve day work weeks

i found myself in a truly atrocious mood this last monday and tuesday. i was crabby, cranky, not sleeping well, exhausted, body sore, and just not into hanging out with friends, or even erik really. at the end of wednesday, my first day off in a good long while, i glanced at my calendar and realized that i had just worked for twelve days straight. i suddenly felt justified not only for sleeping in until almost noon that day, but also for being such a mess. twelve days was about five more than any sane person should ever agree to. i'll try not to make that mistake again.

to make things clear, i really love my jobs. i get to make coffee two or three days a week, steaming and swirling and stirring up drinks for about half regular customers whose faces i now recognize, even if their names still escape me, and half visitors who have been reveling in the oregon sunshine and mcminnville's sweet little downtown area that has been looking especially spic and span this summer. the other days i work, i am literally surrounded by books, answering questions for my fellow readers, tracking down hard to find books for excited customers, and recommending titles to those who happen to share my interest in memoir, nature writing, or food lit. i have no idea how i had the good fortune to land these two jobs. i take at least three applications from hopeful teenagers every single shift i work at the bookstore. i'm not complaining.

the downside of this is the reality of having two part-time jobs: very little time off. i'm the go-to person at both of my places of employment for covering shifts and last-minute calls of desperation ("can you come in today at noon??"; text received at 11:30). most days i say yes to these requests, figuring i need the hours anyway and for the most part enjoy what i do. long runs like this last one though, tend to end on a sour note. like the three people who came into the bookstore tuesday that i just could not make happy, or the poor woman that evening whose chai was not hot enough, too sweet, too milky, and i just couldn't get it right. by the end of that day, i felt like sitting down for a good cry. time for some time off.

i'm learning also that it is important to structure my time off carefully. too much lazing around the apartment, and i just feel gross at the end of the day. i take my time getting up, make myself coffee or tea and toast, sit down with a book until i feel like doing something. work on some small productive project for a while (we are still unpacking and arranging after all), and then make myself a nice little lunch. i also work hard to get out of the apartment those days, even if it's just for a little trip across the street to the library for more reading material.

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today it is a little gray and gloomy in mcminnville, and i'm welcoming the need to wear flannel and a sweatshirt for a day or two. the world is a little less bright and overwhelming, and it feels good to linger over dinner and cuddle with erik until we both fall asleep. it reminds me why i look forward to fall all year long, and also why summer is always better with the occasional rain shower to help wash the hot and hectic days clean again.

happy july.

b