Three day weekend.

I realized that Work is a drug. Weekends are rehab.

I crazy overtime during the week so je ne peux pas me décrocher when I really need to.

All weekend, I compulsively check emails on my black. To keep myself from going stark crazy on Sunday, i pulled out my laptop and worked until 5pm. This morning (another weirdo company holiday) I woke up and put my phone on mute determined not to work. Only to turn on my laptop to check out my weekend sales figures.

I guess the minute I have actually have a moment away from work, I don't know what to do with myself and realize that my life is a series of copy and paste.

How depressing.

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On a very positive note, I retail therapied myself today and got a fabulous chocolate brown luella hobo and... a matching suit! I know, I'm a shopoholic - but it is bonus season and I killed 2005 so a little reward before the government snatches over 40% of it!

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Shopping Satan.

def: the evil person who convinces others to make rash extravagant purchases.

Today I was the ultimate SS as I called my equally mad auntie E in Vancouver. She suffers from retail junkism and I tempted her with stories of my conquests.