A Little Worse for the Wear

After six days in a row working, it's clear that's my limit.

And I have to work again tomorrow.

Granted, this is the second week in three weeks that I have had to work seven days in a row, so that could be part of it.

But it's got me exhausted. I looked in the mirror today, and I look flat worn out. My eyes have bags. My hair is askew in it's bun (yes, I'm a librarian. yes, I wear my hair in a bun...but it's askew, so stop laughing at the stereotypical librarian in me). I can see the beginnings of lines around my lips.

And going off the "Sarah looks haggard and tired" line of thinking, I realized the other day that it's not just my mom and a few friends who call me "Poor Sarah."

I was talking with a co-worker about a slightly confusing transaction (which had confused her, as well, mind you), and she looked at me, smiled and shook her head, "Poor Sarah," she said. I realized right then that my boss calls me that. Others in the office say that about me. It's not just my mom. This can't be good.

Moving on from that (and yes, this is how my brain works), I realized that I'll probably never get promoted in my current library. Everyone knows me as "Poor Sarah," and that doesn't translate well to "supervisor."

And going even further, this makes me even more okay with packing it all in and (eventually? soon?) moving somewhere new, where no one knew me when I was 17 and where no one (yet) knows that I'm "Poor Sarah."

Just think, I could have a brand new nickname!