In the middle of the afternoon (after an intense two-hour meeting), I felt like I was gonna crash. I could barely see straight.
Then I got my second wind.
I needed to get our Safety Plan fillable .pdfs out to all the committee chairs, and it required writing a clear, explanatory email and attaching the right event to each one. Once I got into a rhythm, it was pretty easy to do. But it was time consuming. At some point when Jeff was getting ready to leave, he came in and told me what a good job I was doing, how well I was hanging in there in these crazy times. I think I nodded.
It's weird that he's being so nice to me right now. He's not exactly Mr. Praise.
Tomorrow will be intense. Court judging for six hours at least, and they want me to manage a room of judges this year. Then when that's over, I'll come home and change clothes to get ready for the Rosarian auction . . . I remember trying to take a nap between these things last year, and getting interrupted by hysterical phone calls from the event manager, which I tried to ignore. (At least she won't be involved this year.)
I need to wash my hair tonight so I can fit in that nap tomorrow.
I predict Sunday will be a looong day of sleep.
It should come as no surprise that my favorite female characters were always the tough ones, like Scarlett and Ripley and Emma Peel . . .