"If we survive this week...

... we can survive anything," said one of my coworkers last Monday. I'm not sure he knew just how right he was. I joked that on Tuesday I was going to wear fatigues with black paint under my eyes to get into the spirit of things and by Tuesday evening, I wish I'd done just that.

Between a myriad of things at work and finishing up an outside project to meet a Friday print deadline, it was easily a week from you know where. Friday was the only day I left work before 7 p.m. and that day involved repeat trips to the printer because I had to insert "bleed" into a document on the fly (design heads will laugh, but although I knew what bleed was... I sure had never adjusted or exported a document with it before!) One night seeing me (and Moo Moo) at work until after 9 p.m. Then Tuesday night saw me up until 1:40 a.m. making sure that the outside project stayed on track because it's a group effort and I didn't want to be think weak link that prevented the whole class from graduating. Wednesday morning brought a brief respite because the group had our last session together that involved some spirited canoeing... I hit work after that and it was another 7 p.m. day. (Not to mention my shoulder felt like it'd been worked over with a 2 by 4 the next day!) Thursday saw some work group bonding at dinner time (Hub on!) and by Friday I hit the sack by 9 p.m. just exhausted.

And none of this includes any of the drama with the car that J bought in Atlanta the week before.

OK. So I've vented. But here's the amazing part. I felt wonderfully alive by the end of the week.

Working in a newsroom and on a design desk means you get to see near instant results (the group project is a map, so in a sense it's quite similar), which means screw ups can happen a lot faster and are indelible, but it's a huge rush to see what you've been busting your tail over... to be able to look and say to yourself, "I did that!" or "I was a part of that!" which is why I suppose they say hard work is good for you. It's a truly heady feeling that pushes you to work even harder (well, someone with my personality type anyway) and although there's a risk of pushing too hard and breaking down that's what your support group is for — whether work, family or good friends — with the trick being to know when to admit you need the support and accept it.

I can see where I'm starting to ramble, so I'll stop. I suppose my point is that although this week was amazingly hard. Reminiscing from the safety of my Sunday, I'm thankful I survived and I can see where it's made me a stronger person mentally and emotionally. What more can I ask for?