It was only a matter of time, for Christ's sake. I can't work 50-60 hours a week for more than two months (I started that shit even before we lost all the people to the Great Mass Canning of 2012). I need a break.
My break, of course, means only working nine-and-a-half hours yesterday. And 10 today. But I had time to work more. I could have and probably should have worked more today. I decided I wanted to watch TV and read Twitter more. I just couldn't concentrate any more.
I'm also wanting to do stuff this weekend. Mostly things that aren't work. I mean, I don't want our clients to suffer. I don't want to have them yell at me. But no one on our end seems to care very much, save for those of us in the trenches.
And the amount of work out there waiting to be done is so daunting as to be almost paralyzing. I'm sure I'll get over myself and get back to the grindstone, but not tonight.
I'm gonna lay down on the couch now, and watch the Grizzlies and Clippers and let Chris Webber's lovely voice lull me into relaxation.