Venom

Greetings from the non-work world, ReaderFriends!

Today is Sunday. Ah, blissful Sunday. I'm sitting on my couch, dressed and showered and rye-toast-ed (and wishing I had gotten my tush in gear some time in the last few days and dragged my lazybones to the market for juicey goodness...) and more than half an hour early for my Sunday Adventures in Organized Religion. I've surfed all the social networking sites I can take, and have decided to share a little venom from last week to get it good and out of my system so as to avoid angry leakage during tomorrow's impending Noontime Noms!

Last week... was not the greatest week ever. I have been proverbially (and emotionally) shat upon, and my strength was blasted to itty bitty Sunny Smithereens. I was called unreliable, self-serving and difficult to work with. I watched the morale-boosting extravaganza I single-handedly organized fall into the the chauvenistic fuddy-duddy (who told me to put it together in the first place)'s lap, at which point I watched him humbly accept every ounce of credit that was given for said extravaganza during a company-wide meeting, as I stood just a few feet behind him.

At the risk of dragging my personal life into the amazing world of EngineerFriend, I also spent the week worrying about money after a little Shadenfreude moment at my Friendly Local Courthouse left me wishing that I had a credit card, and the income of an EngineerFriend instead of just an Office Wench.

Work is just work, and bad times are just bad times. The work and the hardship and the bad times do not define me, and are not my life. There is more joy to be found and excitement to be had than can be expressed in purple font on one measly web page. I need only open my eyes to see it.

It is now Sunday, and the nastiness of the workweek is all behind me. I've spent 36 hours resting, recovering and releasing it all, and am now feeling thoroughly prepared for another 23. I've significantly imprinted my couch with my dent-inducing-derriere as I killed a four-pack of naturally sweetened root beer and a bag of raspberry chocolates. I've spent time with friends, with food and with cats, and have been loved by them all. I've watched an early-elementary-school child give his grandmother Tickets To The Gun Show and chuckled softly to myself at her proud smile.

But tomorrow, after these 23 hours are over, I will hold my head high and march proudly back to my desk, prepared to take on everything my coworkers can throw at me. Because, in the scheme of things, words are my greatest weapon... So I don't need to let someone turn them against me.

And, if all else fails, I can follow the advice I found in another amazing blog today...

"When all else fails, break something."*

Go forth, ReaderFriends, and have a wonderful last 23 hours of freedom. 

*- Posted by Jane in her blog at spinsterjane.blogspot.com. You should check it out! She's full of wisdom and amazing insight... She talks about dance and gardening and other fantastic adventures... Plus, she likes bacon.