I believe I am rapidly approaching burnout. My mom said on the phone that the last week before a vacation is the worst ever – you just feel like you can’t possibly survive another minute without that vacation. I didn’t realize how true that was.

And it’s not that things suck. I am not having a horrible week, all in all. I’m just busy. Busy, tired, and feeling a little bit like buckling under the strain. Obviously this is not the week to be making decisions about jobs, since right now I’d like to go hide underneath the covers for a good long time. We’ll see how I feel after my lovely vacation.

My irritability is up quite high. It has been for a while – I’ve been blaming hormones, but who really knows what goes on in there – but this week due to the tight schedule I’ve been even testier than usual. Muttering at drivers on the road, cursing at pets who constantly trip me, nearly throwing little temper fits when my clothing gets snagged on a doorknob. Just… short-tempered. I don’t like it, and I’ll be ever so glad when I don’t have to worry about meeting deadlines and being on-time for appointments.

And on top of everything I decided to read a book. My plan was to re-read book 6 in the Harry Potter series so that I could finally get to reading book 7… hoping that I would only have to bring one of the two big hardcover books with me in my carry-on. Unfortunately the plan has backfired and now I’m avoiding the stuff that I need to get done in order to read. I knew this was going to happen. It’s why I loved reading so much as a teenager and why I have avoided it for several years now: it becomes an addiction. It’s not that no longer like books… it’s that I recognize that once I start I cannot stop and my life cannot frequently accomodate such a black hole of a diversion. So I avoid it.

I love the feeling of a good book. I love leaving my life behind for a little while – always have. I love immersing myself in a rich world, in strong emotions, in wonder and awe. The hard part has always been returning to my own life… And that is never more true than now. Even when the Harry Potter books get depressing and there is death and overwhelming sadness… at least I know the last book has been written. At least I can read ahead and find out what happens – for good or ill, there will be closure.