I'm running tired these days. It isn't my job that kills me, but my commute -- if not for that, I'd be in incredible shape each day. Extra sleep + extra goof-off time = happier me.

About half of the unit has been approved to occasionally telework -- all the issue editors plus our boss. I'm hoping this process will slowly expand. As last hired and still not fully-trained, I'll be the last to get the benefit, but so long as it happens eventually I'll be happy. One day a week in which I don't have to commute will be heavenly. Wednesday, ideally, or Monday. I'll take whatever I can get, though.

Things progress so slowly around here because our boss -- well, let's just say it makes absolutely no difference whether she's actually here or not. I'm not fully-trained yet because she won't give me permission to advance what I'm working on, for absolutely no reason except that to do so would require a decision on her part, and that seems to be something she despises. So for now I'm kind of screwed. No help for it; all I can do is endure.

This year, by Executive Order, I have the 26th off, which is a nice thing. The 25th too, of course, but the day after is not normally a holiday. I'm starting to feel like I'll need it. The last holiday I had was Turkey Day, which didn't seem like much of a day off since tigerphoenix's folks were visiting. I've actually been considering calling in a mental health day sometime this week, but I have a lot of trouble getting that sort of thing past my own work ethic. At my old jobs it was patently inconcievable, both because my sick time was also my leave time, and because of the sheer damage a call-off could do at either. Here, I have my own separate bank of sick time accruing, and if I call off life proceeds apace. My coworkers aren't shy about doing it. But I'm just not wired to blow things off like that. Life might be better if I was.

There's more ticking in my brain, but it can wait until later.