It has only been three hours or so since I left the office to welcome the weekend, but work is still fresh on my mind.
Actually, this happens almost every week. Sort of.
The bad thing about Fridays is that I have to go through a gruelling two days, worrying unnecessarily, before going back to work on Monday to allay my fears and suspicions.
There is always this nagging feeling that I may have:
- forgotten to perform some tasks
- directed an email to the wrong person
- not completed my work and missed my deadlines,
so much so my weekend will be spent agonising over work-related matters.
Did I? Have I already? What if I did not?
Argh. I am so going to get it.
Yeah, this makes it sound like I cannot wait to get back to work. Creepy.
I guess, technically, I am still at work without being at work. The mind and the body does not want to let go. How depressing.
Work is an evil word.
On the other hand, I really need Fridays.
Thankfully, I have got rather good genes, or my crowning glory will all be white in colour by now.
Hmm, wait. Is this what they call “stress”?