Weekend from hell. Also titled: Thank God, it's Monday.

I had plans for this weekend.  Grandiose plans of going to work and organizing things.  Plans of packed lunches instead of take out.  Plans of an evening with my husband on the one night he doesn't have to go to bed at 7:30pm.  Plans of easy calls and gentle work where things go right.  Time to relax and repair.  Time to write and be creative.

I went into the weekend, having almost no days off because of some First Aid training, knowing that I would be on day 6 by the end of day 4.  Knowing I would have 2 days of meetings after my 6.  Knowing I would then work 1 more at another place and have 1 day free before being back for another 4.  Do these numbers confuse you?  Well, just know that I went into the weekend prepared to do battle.  Gentle, easy, light counselling battle.  Canadians Navy versus Switzerland Army.  But battle none-the-less.

And then I went to work.  After an hour, it was obvious things would not go well.  After 4 hours on one call and 7 on another, I realized it was not going at all.  Child welfare call after call poured through the gates.  Every one was being bad, every thing was going poorly, and every where we went we suffered casualties.  Four hours of overtime later, I went home saddened in the knowledge that the day had kicked my pa-toot from one end of the city to the other.  I would rest for a short time and then try again.

And then I went to work.  After an hour, it was obvious things would not go well.  Then I got pooped on -- literally and figuratively.  We ran from call to call, house to house, child to child, person to person.  It never stopped.  Until it stopped.  Suddenly, it was quieter.

It was then we realized.  We had not won.  The enemy had not given up.  They had not won.  We had not given up.  The enemy just got bored and went somewhere else.

Where was I going with this?

Oh yeah.  My weekend sucked.  I am tired out and brain weary.  I have things to do for my meetings which start tomorrow at 1pm and I am not prepared.  I cannot lift my arms enough to move the things I need to move.  I cannot think the things I need to think.  I cannot fight another day.

I want my blankie.