The Deep Breath After the Plunge

After working for six weeks under an awful boss, being swamped with homework, recovering from being really sick, and trying to get through Holy Week without losing any body parts, I now, once again, have free time.

I was working 35 hours a week, going to the gym, babysitting, going to church and trying to get as much homework as I could done. I realize this doesn't sound like that much, but it made the 24 hours I am given in a day seem tiny. Plus, my boss started to treat me badly and put a lot of pressure on me to be perfect. Which, of course, I cannot do. I began to dread going to work. Which is wierd because I loved working with children.

I was also feeling quite a bit of pressure and apprehensiveness in regards to my upcoming graduation. As much as I wanted it to come and how excited I was that it was so close, the work that needed to be done in between seemed overwhelming. Plus, my weekdays weren't free and the time I had was usually taken by the mothers who I had promised to babysit for.

Finally, I cracked. My body had had enough. After four days of refusing to accept I was sick, I finally gave into the sleepiness and the pain on Lazurus Saturday. Because I had kept moving and moving while the sickness took root, it took me longer to recover. My nasty cold had moved into my bronchial chords, making them spasm and leaving me with shortness of breath. On Holy Monday, I could barely squeeze s few words out, I had no breath. Once the doctor gave me an inhaler, the tightness ceased.

By Pascha I had completely recovered, I have now finished working at my job, a couple of my big final assignments in school have been finished. I am settling into my, once again, comfy life.


And this is the first of many regular posts from now on.