Sleep Deprived and Accident Prone

I shouldn't whine about working, as I continuously chant my mantra "Happy to have a job." But the news says things are turning around and all I'm seeing is more of the same thing. Also, working all the time has made me a bit short and craven of routine (I just wanted Monday to be like Monday, is that so hard to do?). My seven day a week schedule has me so messed up by 8:30 PM I'm staring waiting for the clock to strike an appropriate sleep hour.

Even with seven or so hours of sleep a night I've become accident prone. We have the previously discussed ankle/screw injury, yesterday a mysterious crescent shaped laceration appeared on my palm (today it is purple and really sore), and then this morning in the shower I discovered a long bloody gash down the back of my right arm. It had scabbed so it wasn't terribly fresh, but with the exception of the short time it took me to get into my pjs yesterday I had been in long sleeves for 24 plus hours.

I fear my car is next or I'll lose an eye. I've turned into a weepy mess any time I'm alone but I'm agitated when people are around. Every night I sit on the couch and turn on the tele thinking it's Thursday. No lie, Monday I even asked my younger sister why the normal Thursday programming wasn't on.

I now know why there are people who drink heavily everyday. I can't, my jeans are a large enough size as is, but the idea of continuing on like this is disheartening, the future is bleak. Basically I fear I've dug myself into a hole of resignation and will live there working two part-time jobs, living with my mother and lamenting both of these things for the rest of my life.

Some days this fear is motivation, some it is just the opposite but I need a change, if only to keep my mystery injuries at bay.

A Note to the Mailman

I'm sure I shouldn't have to write this, hell, the fact that I am means that I should probably do it formally and send it to the local postmaster but that would take planning and a bit of research, I'm not into that today. But note that my earlier post today was done in haste, I've got a lot to do and not a lot of time, but this, this is something that had I been to my mailbox before I had posted would have fit in nicely with the title.

Dear Mr. Mailman (whose name I think is Dan),
     I want to thank you for delivering all the awesome junk that you deliver everyday (kind of). I love the pay stubs and mass quantities of duplicate Victoria's Secret catalogs, I love the adverts and the poorly written and considerably poorerly (I know) edited weekly local papers. I love those papers so much I read them and correct the spelling, grammar and syntax as I go. I know, I know I should have gotten the mail on Saturday when you left it in the box but at the moment with the spotlighting I'm not particularly comfortable walking to the mailbox in the dark. So today, Monday, I went to get Saturday's mail and upon opening the box find the more reputable local paper covered in blood.
     If you ever find yourself bleeding again while delivering mail, DO NOT WIPE YOUR BLEEDING FINGER ON THE MAIL, that is why God made clothing.
    You are disgusting. I do not know why you would think this is even remotely ok. I do sincerely hope there isn't a next time because instead of chucking the paper then I will return to your work places with it and hand it over to your boss insisting that for my safety you be fired. It might not be fair but normal people don't do things like that.

Thank you for your new appreciation for hygiene,
Megan