I expect this is natural. The position itself, as more or less my own boss, was fairly empowering; my debt, car lease and apartment leases (there are now two) keep me from feeling free or untethered; and as someone who has always strived to be a "good girl," I still haven't gotten the hang of angering people or disappointing people whom I shouldn't worry about disappointing.
And I'm damp and smell vaguely of coffee, thanks to dumping my mug all over myself first thing this morning.
I give up, Monday*. You win. Just let me go home, curl up, drink some tea, read North and South and forget about jobs, museum boards, exhibits, and the possibility that I may not have a job tomorrow.
*My work week starts on Wednesday. "Monday" isn't a day so much as a horrible aura that surrounds your first day back at work.
PS - Whyte Fairy, if you would like a curatorship at a small American art museum in rural New England with plenty of room for creativity and self-direction (but a little lacking in support and pay), I can probably arrange something.
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