This week was a bitch.
Pure and simple.
The nice thing is I have people in my staff that recognize the signs and send out feelers to make sure I’m not hitting burnout. I get a lovely phone call and support. And then I get affirmations from other volunteers that what I am doing matters, that it’s a better environment than before and that we are moving forward and on the right path.
They make up for the soul-bruising three hours spent in front of women who are mean. Flat out hateful.
You know what else makes it better?
Happy hour with this man sitting next to me trying to tell me the relation between dewpoint and humidity.
(I don’t care)
So mark your calendars folks. The Wagon lasted 17 days in 2014.
Next year someone remind me that it’s a stupid ass idea to quit drinking during cookie season.