Today was one of those days where I just had to keep pushing myself to achieve something, and once I did, I could only feel wiped right out. I suppose the sense of achievement will come later?
At work, it was a long, hard brain-slog, as I struggled to revise a discussion paper about program policy changes and its accompanying annex on proposed options to fill a gap in program policy. To many of you, this probably reads "Wah wahh wahh wahh wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wahh" but to a policy analyst (we're also known as wonks), you know that this means an 8-hour battle of wits to piece together the best arguments based on extensive research that will hopefully stand up to the willful and wanton scrutiny of senior bureaucrats. Or more simply: Pulling an all-dayer.
At home, it was a long, hard body-slog, as I virtually forced myself out for my evening jog and pilates routine (tonight, it was buns and thighs night!) on pain of death (or, you know, a heaping portion of self-scorn and loathing). As I sweated myself fit, I wondered if there was any hope of achieving my goal of literally working my ass off by October. I set a hard target of reducing the ass measurement by two inches so I can save some money and wear a dress I already own instead of going broke and hungry because I had to buy a dress that fits. I'm so out of shape, a 1 km run is all my lungs can manage at this point. Oh, the shame! Me! I used to cross-country run in junior high (albeit poorly...turns out I've always been a sprinter, built for short bursts of speed, not steady-paced longevity), and now I can just squeeze out a run to the armory and back. *Sigh*
Some days, it's hard to see how your efforts will win out.
...Wish you were here.
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