I wasn’t sure what to call this post, as it’s a cross between “Confessions of a Workaholic” and “Spring Break” and “Let’s Celebrate”.  Confused yet?  Welcome to the ride.  I’ve decided to call it “Punch Drunk”.

Seriously, I have to admit it here. . . “My name is Donna and I am a workaholic”.  Apparently THAT is one consequence that can occur AFTER your kids grow up.  I always worked non-stop while they were growing up, but at the time, only 8 hours of that was for work.  Any mom (and dads too) knows how much more work there is when you have kids, so let’s just suffice it to say, I never lacked for something to do.

Enter Empty Nest Syndrome.  What do I do?  I tried to find hobbies.

Photography

Cooking

Entertaining

Next, enter shitty economic downturn.  Companies going belly-up left and right.  The company I work for struggling and cutting back as well.  Add menopausal, empty-nestor, child-of-an-alcoholic-people-pleaser, crazy woman to that scenario, mix and stir.  And you’ve got one serious WORKAHOLIC.

Becoming a workaholic was never a goal that I set out to achieve.  It was honestly just a slippery slope I found myself on.  I was in desperate need of something that made me feel worthwhile and validated and important. . . and my bosses took this and RAN with it.

Now I can’t blame them for my addiction.  Hell, I welcomed it with open arms.  The more I could do to impress, the more I wanted and the more they gave me.  BUT there’s always a definitive time when one MUST scream “Uncle!”.

My immediate boss and I have worked together for nine years.  We have a very comfortable and honest relationship and I think we make a very good team. But again, add the shitty economic downturn and customer contract renewal negotiations and the stress that that ensues (translate into “busting our asses to impress”) and it’s equaled a whole bunch of hours we’ve worked.This has been going on for about three months and I have about worn myself completely OUT, working my 8+ hours at the office only to come home, grab a little something to eat and log back into the office to start over. . . to the point that I haven’t slept more than 3 hours a night in weeks and I couldn’t even THINK anymore.  Someone would ask me the simplest of questions and I’d be sitting there giving them that “deer-in-the-headlights” look.  My brain was seriously working at HALF speed.

As I sat in bed with my laptop on logged into the office at 1:00am this past week, the battery died.  Only THEN did I shut it down and go to sleep.  Only THEN did I realize that “I have a problem”.  MY battery was dead.  I needed to stop.  I needed a vacation.  And I needed a vacation STAT!

So that what I set out to do.  To understand what a gigantic thing that is for me to acknowledge, much less accept, you have to know that I DON’T KNOW HOW to unplug myself.  But I HAD to in order to survive.

I managed to tell my sweet boss (who KNOWS more than anyone how much I need a vacation) that I HAD to take a couple of days off and that I needed him to pick up my slack while I was gone (which I do for him when he’s gone) and that I didn’t want to get ONE single phone call (to stress me out).  I saw hesitation/apprehension/trepidation/fear on his face, but he nonetheless agreed.

So I left the office yesterday not to return until Monday morning.  It was HONESTLY truly difficult for me to leave yesterday.  I could almost hear what equated to a huge sucking sound (much like pulling one of those rubber darts off the wall) as I walked out the front door just to peel myself away.

ONE HOUR LATER……..

My cell phone rings.  It’s my boss.  I stared at my phone in total disbelief.  Then I answered.  Here is the conversation:

Me: (no hello) “You have GOT to be kidding me, right?”  (said in a funny joking manner)
Him: (serious) “No, why?”
Me: “Because I’ve only been gone five hot minutes!”
Him: “But I have NEWS!”
Me: “News?”
Him: “WE GOT THE CONTRACT!”

WOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!