When I initially imagined myself going on vacation at this time in the calendar year and the lifecycle of the big project I’m working on, I imagined myself gracefully exiting the scene that is my workplace with things either finished enough that there was time for a breather or with my coworkers prepared to attend to whatever trickle of work came in while I was away. Unfortunately, over the last two weeks (as I’m writing this as I sit in an exhausted sweaty heap in my home office far too late at night on the day before I leave on my vacation, this is actually four weeks prior to the day this post goes up) I’ve been absolutely swamped by work. I’ve been leaving work at increasingly late times as I’ve struggled to balance the work that’s been pouring in against trying to finish the items on my to-do list that have fallen by the wayside over the last month and a half of increasing business, all while trying to get my coworkers up to speed so that the work can continue while I’m gone since all of the different pieces of my project are at a crucial stage where they can’t just wait a couple weeks for me to return from my vacation. I finally managed to get the last things done tonight, at about a quarter to ten in the evening after an almost fourteen hour day. I’ll be able to rest easily, as a result, since I won’t have anything left dangling over my head, but I am so absolutely exhausted that I don’t even feel tired anymore. I’m found some state beyond even exhaustion where nothing matters and my numb sense of self can continue to push my body until I run out of things to do or I collapsed because my body refuses to listen.

Which, you know, isn’t a great place to be right before going on vacation. Or ever, really. I know from experience that being able to continue to function in a state like this one is an important tool in humanity’s Survival Toolbelt, but it’s certainly one of the most miserable tools. I don’t enjoy having it or using it. I’ve never had a pleasant time before, during, or after employing it. I already know I’m going to be awake for a few more hours yet, restlessly packing and trying to finish up as much preparation for my trip as I can muster, which will be a lot since I didn’t get literally anything done this week other than work. Normally I’d be basically ready to go by this point, but working until almost nine every night as I flirted with the twelve-hour mark on my time card has left me with little time and less energy for doing anything other than coming home, eating, and trying to plan for what is going to be a very busy Friday where I’ll be running out for a quick blood test in the morning and then cramming all my packing, laundry, and shopping into a couple hours after that so I can hopefully get to my vacation getaway before dusk. Normally I’d look forward to a three and a half hour drive for the relaxation and podcast time it would afford me, but now I’m genuinely not sure I’m going to be able to sit still for that long without my exhausted, strained muscles cramping on me [I was not able to do that and had to take extra stops to stretch every hour and I still got to my destination feeling like my leg and lower back muscles were tied into a series of small knots].

I do not know if I’ve ever pushed myself this hard at work. I know I’ve talked about trying to find the balance between working on a project I think is cool for the money I’ll make as a result of all this overtime and letting myself and my drive be exploited by an uncaring engine in the capitalist machine, but I think I’ve gone from being carefully (and precariously) on the healthy side of things to firmly on the unhealthy side of things. I can trace it all back to a single decision, even, where I chose to put in a lot more effort than was strictly required just so the people I was leaving my work to wouldn’t have to struggle with an unclear test setup. They probably could have figured it out on their own. They’re all smart, clever people. I didn’t need to do all that. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it, unless something happens that prevents them from getting to the point in project where they’re using the test jig I was rigging up (which might very well happen, given where things were when my coworkers left for the day and I couldn’t keep working on that part of the project anymore). If that happened, and I get into my office in two weeks (or a few days after you’re reading this) to find my test jig entirely untouched, I might just go home again. After all, that was about twenty hours of work over the last three days. I’d really hate to learn that I did it for nothing or even that I just made myself do a whole bunch of work that could have been put off until I came back from my vacation. I’d also probably scream until my voice gave out as I left the building.

I’m so bent out of shape by this work and this stress that I’m genuinely not sure how I’m going to recover from this. I mean, I’m sure I’ll get plenty of rest and that’ll help with things, but there’s a price to be paid for bending yourself this far out of shape and I’m not sure what it is going to be. After all, all my past experience with this level of stress and forceful survival was always accompanied by trauma, pain, or drastic personal change, so I’m not sure how it’ll turn out when it is just because of work. The fact that I’m thinking about this at all is kind of scary. I know I’m too exhausted and reached-my-impossible-goal-so-I’m-giddy-with-relief type of wired to accurately assess how I’m feeling and how far past my limits I’ve pushed myself. All I can hope is that I make it another day before I start to break down since then I’ll be in a quiet cabin and won’t need to be anywhere or do anything for most of a week. I’m sure I’ll figure out it over my vacation, though. Or hopefully even tomorrow. Who knows? I sure don’t. All I know is that I’ve spent too much time sitting in this chair tonight and need to go start assembling the electronics and books I’ll be brining with me on my trip. And what clothes I can lay out. Board games and TTRPG supplies, too. And whatever else I can think of, since I feel restless and probably won’t even start getting ready for bed for another two or three hours. I need to decompress and burn off some of this stress energy before I can even think of doing something like laying down…