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I’m getting down to the last weeks of my last, last proposal. I won’t say I’m burned out, but it’s a near thing.
Jumpiness inside;
crankiness outside, I hear.
Shoulders won’t settle.
One of the most irritating things about trying to take a break is that I can’t. Tired, the brain still rattles on at a mile a minute – or a kilometre every 37.5 seconds – and I keep being drawn back to the work. I don’t want a break: I want to be done.
Inside? Can’t focus.
Outside? Agitation rules.
Ahead? Less, I hope.
This is a good time to remind myself that what matters to the executives — the win — is not something I can hang my hat or my heart on. What matters in the moment is the task, but in the long term what matters is the people.
Exhaustion is all.
Does any of this matter?
Yes, but not the win.
Bone weary; brain dead
Wanna pass out at my desk.
Dream? Aye, there’s the rub.
Jim T
Jim – Shakespearean haiku! Methinks the Bard would be pleased. I am.