I figure I've had a week-and-a-half off; the rest was just worry and I felt like I was at work. I'm sure the situation will be resolved, or at least I will get to the bottom of it, but I resent having another poor night's sleep despite taking three tablets designed to make me sleep! I have bags under my eyes again, and it's back to the grindstone tomorrow. Hurrah.
My parents told me not to worry when I explained why I was so agitated when S and I visited them last night. They understood my predicament but said that other things in life matter more, and that when one door closes another opens. I agree with all of what they said, of course, but what upsets me most is being robbed of peace of mind, which I haven't exactly had in abundance lately. I know it's pointless going on and on about something I can't do anything about right now but I can't relax.
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