Oh my.

Today was like the Armageddon. And not, like, Ben Affleck all sexy-like Armageddon. More like the actual end of the earth. Am I dramatic? Yes. But you know what? YOU GO WORK 11:15 A.M. TO 8 P.M. And then we'll talk.

Started the new shift today. I thought I had overcome the despair of a shift guaranteed to ruin an entire day. I had a list of pros, even. Sleeping in... Running in the morning... But when I found myself in my car in the parking lot, 15 minutes before my shift, popping anxiety meds, well, I discovered differently.


It was so bizarre. Lunch break at 3:15. Who eats at 3:15? I drove home in the dark. WithOUT my sister. WTF? We've been carpooling for 10 weeks, and now we're on different shifts and WHO ELSE is going to listen to Pitbull's "Krazy" with me really, really inappropriately loud in the car on the way to and from work every day? Dammit.

It's been one day. I'll give myself more time to adjust. And more time for the Celexa to kick in. (Cough). But, really, day one: FAIL.

I'm heading out for a long run tomorrow morning to take advantage of my ability to do so. It's a way to convince myself an 11 a.m. start to the work day isn't completely heinous. I have a feeling it'll turn out to just be a 12-mile run at 7 a.m., and work will still blow.

But I can still hope.