I worked 54 hours last week. By the end of today, I will have worked 46 hours. On the bright side, I get paid for every single one of those hours. On the dark side, it may lead to my premature death.
My body is screaming at me: "We've done nothing for SIX WEEKS!! What are you DOING?!?!"
I tend to agree. This was not a case of "easing" back into it. I'm going full tilt. And while every hour might not be as productive as it could be (note, I'm writing a blog while at work), it doesn't change the fact that I'm still adjusting to early mornings and a moderately "normal" sleep schedule.
I'm glad to be back. I'm slowly gaining confidence that I can actually do this job.
It's not all smooth sailing. Today Beth took a project from me at the last minute and still hasn't indicated whether I did a good job, or totally crapped out. She's usually better at feedback. But I'm now jumping into a couple of less intense projects, so I'm sort of glad for the shift in responsibility.
Next up, planning a luncheon for rabid tourism people. Yum!