While being off work 9 days was wonderful, being back at work is…not. I’m so exhausted. I want nothing more than to go back to being on vacation. It’s not like I was lazy while on vacation, either. I traveled, cleaned, did laundry, saw a play, baked 11 dozen cookies, shopped, bowled, got poked and prodded, and spent time at home with my dog and husband. But man, two days of work have nearly killed me. I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t think getting back into the swing of things was going to be so difficult. I had trouble focusing on more than one thing at a time, which is a huge handicap in my line of work. I spent most of the time wanting to be back at home, or for some magical fairy to come and finish all my projects. Neither of which was going to happen. So I keep plugging along, hoping for something to click in my brain, so that I can function again.

Part of my distraction lies in my impending Psychiatric Evaluation tomorrow at UCLA. I know I’ll be fine. They’re basically just evaluating me to make sure I’m fit to make this kind of life changing decision for myself. But I, being the eternal pessimist, am nervous. What if I say the wrong thing, or don’t answer the questions properly? I know I’m freaking out over nothing. Logically, I understand that I am over-analyzing and overreacting and that I should shut the hell up and move on. Emotionally? Hello mess! What’s worse is that I’m going to freak out about it all night, not sleep, and then be a total bear tomorrow. (Ok more bearish than usual, thanks.) Sometimes I wish I had a switch so I could just shut off my brain for a while. (Yes, yes. Wide open door for comments. I’m aware.) At least then I could sleep.

I’m supposed to get the results of all my testing on Thursday. This doesn’t mean I find out if I can be a donor, however. This just means the donation coordinator takes a look at my file and lets me know if anything in there could be a problem. I find out if I need to repeat any tests, or if any tests came back with a positive result. (Positive for negative things, that is.) So that’s a little stressful as well. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I keep telling myself I’m fine. I just wish I’d believe me.