Exhaustion

This would be the first time in my working career that I’ve been exhausted in a good way.
November was our biggest month, and I’ve worked my hardest ever since I started with the company. My entire product line is awesome, from the Senior Manager down to the Sales Force, and we have all come together to make November amazing.
Yesterday was essentially my last proper trading-day, I got to work at ten to nine (I usually start at twenty to ten), skipped lunch (as I have all month) and didn’t leave the office until quarter to seven. I was flat-out all day, but the thing is, none of it was undue pressure or stupid tasks, it was all productive, progressive result-attaining work, and I really enjoyed it. I’m not one to immerse myself in work, emotionally it doesn’t mean much to me, but nevertheless, you really do feel proud of yourself when you know you’ve done a good job and everyone acknowledges it, which they did to great encouragement.
Today I got to work at twenty past eight to tidy up a few things, skipped lunch, and finally left early at four thirty after having tidied up everything for my one day’s leave this Monday. Yes, I will only take one day off until January as we will still have a lot to do for December, considering we essentially are down to 16 trading days because of Christmas, with everything taking longer as people are on leave in our company and every company we work with. Still though, Shanghai office will be happy, France office will be happy, and after a year where we struggled month after month, we’ve finally caught up and exceeded our targets.

This is the most I’ve ever talked about work in my diary, I usually make a point of not doing so because mostly I don’t care and what happens at work isn’t important, but my sense of achievement and professional pride in myself, and the exhaustion that comes with genuine hard work supported by acknowledgement, appreciation and encouragement is a unique experience.

Monday I take my car to be serviced, and also see the doctor. I had previously made up my mind to lie to him as usual, but I’m not too sure that’s a good idea as pretty soon I might need some of the drugs back that I’m currently not on. It’s a delicate balancing act of subtle manipulation. I don’t care what you think about that, I do it to survive and you cannot begin to think you understand it, and no, I’m not going to temper that with an apology for sounding indignant. I’m tired of people having false empathy for me. You know by now how particular I am about expression; if you can’t get it right, shut the fuck up and keep it to yourself until you figure out how. All of a sudden I’m enjoying being selfish, as I said to someone earlier this month, possibly freckles, I’m beginning to understand why everyone does it all the time, it’s fucking ace. You might not like this side of me, but if your relationships are based on how agreeable you all are all of the time, and how much you approve of the things others do in their lives, then clearly, you are no friend of mine.

As the car will be in with our friendly mechanic, I will probably train it into the city, something I now haven’t done in probably over a year, and go for a walk during the day with my plugs in my ears, then head out to the doctor’s on the other side of town by tram.

I’m going to go and drink the rest of my Pinot now, and continue where I left off last time I was fantasising about foreplay in the dark. When I think about it, sometimes I’m happy not actually having sex at all; exploring the body is just so rewarding all on its own.