Work overload/overtime and birthdays

Actual pile on my desk...

So far this week I am work an average of 4 overtime hours per night. I = mostly dead. I'm not really a fan of overtime, sure it's time & half for every hour worked, but I really prefer to keep work at work and only work 40 hour weeks. This is however the busiest time of year for us and I have been charged with processing every credentialing packet. This is a nice statement as to my skill level, but also a life drainer.

I leave for San Diego this Sunday for a conference. I'm a bit excited to get the hell out of dodge. I can bring my laptop and work on my neuro final. I can watch bad tv and go sit in a room where all I am required to do is look professional and see if I can take away anything. No expectations. If I really lucky, I may even try to sneak out to the beach one night. There is nothing I love more than the ocean...well maybe the ocean with mountains in the background. It's kinda of funny that location of my first flare up and sign of my disease is still one of my favorites. I lost the ability to walk on a beach at eleven. My family and I were camping near Carpinteria, CA one summer, and suddenly my legs no longer worked. My ankles would fail me when trying to walk. I was too young to really get what was happening or be more than amused that I got piggyback rides everywhere, but my Mom was very frightened. I did get that way until we got back home and the tests started and they discussed giving me gold shots in all of my joints. I cried at that doctors appointment. My doctor was unsympathetic and I never had to see here again. It's funny when I think back to all the doctors, appointments, residents, a doctors offices; only a few moments really stick out to me. Most of them are the bad, horrifying, & "I'm not normal and never will be" moments.

We had a birthday party for my Handsome this past weekend. I drank too much and ate too much, but it was loads of fun. I made him a six layer caramel and chocolate cake. It was almost too sweet to eat. And making caramel from scratch is scary!

Ugh. Must get back to piles on my desk and craziness of my life. I'm hoping I don't crash, but I can kind of feel it coming. Like the auras I get with migraines, just a feeling of impending doom that you can only barely make out.

Birthday cake of pure butter & sugar

The Margot...helping me sleep in.