It’s been three weeks since I’ve been on leave. Time flies when you’re having fun. One more week of my recovery period remains and I’m already getting anxious about returning to work. (Not anxious in a good way, in case you needed clarification.)

I’m feeling mostly better these days and my incision seems to be healing quite nicely, although my innards are still tender and carrying any bit of weight feels, well, like a big no-no. I’m moving a tad faster than a mossy three-toe sloth, but nowhere near my normal speed (think: Sonic the Hedgehog). People at the office are always remarking about my purposeful power-walking, zipping around the hallways at breakneck speed, sometimes narrowly escaping collision with unsuspecting co-workers carrying uncovered styrofoam cups of scalding coffee back to their desk. When you have a job like mine, you don’t have time to move slowly. Enter my workspace and expect me to be one of the environmental hazards, because I am.

I have a little over a week to pray for exponential healing, because I am nowhere near work-ready right now. Mentally, or physically.

Besides that, I haven’t been able to get to sleep earlier than 2:00 a.m., which of course, causes me to sleep until 10:00 a.m. Without the hinderances of a work schedule, I have resorted back to my natural nocturnal habits. I suppose being almost completely inactive also has something to do with me simply not being tired at the end of the day. Knowing that my impending return to work draws nigh, the need to readjust my sleeping patterns becomes of utmost importance. Otherwise, I will be in for a rude awakenening come May 14. And, I mean that literally.

At any rate, the 1:00 a.m. hour approaches and I should try to see if I can get to sleep. The transition from lazy bum to working stiff motivated career woman is not going to be easy.