Well I didn't work another weekend. Funny thing is that I totally enjoyed not working and I'm not really looking forward to working at the club again. I mean, it's not causing me anxiety that I have to go back to work but I just feel happy not working.
I woke up at 2 a.m. on Saturday morning and thought to myself "damn, I would still be working right now, that would really suck." Oh well, I've got goals and the only way to reach them is with money.
Funny thing is that hubby just doesn't get it. I actually cooked dinner last night. I haven't come home from work and actually prepared a meal (not microwaved or delivery) in months.... lot's of months! I told him that I was actually starting to feel back to normal, so much so that I actually felt like cooking. He replied by telling me how he was starting to feel normal too. No, really, like I haven't felt like this in like over 2 years. I feel productive. I don't feel like I have to run from my memories. I don't feel this overcoming urge to go to the club in order to take all of my inner turmoil out on exhaustion. I just feel good. It's weird.
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