Running On Empty

Twenty-fifteen is half over and all I can say is good riddance. 
I need the second half to be better than the first. My job has become an exercise in torture the likes of which I had not anticipated. This has put me in a funk that has frightened me on a level I have never experienced.
When the first thought upon opening one’s eyes at the dawn of a new day is, “Dammit, I’m still here”, there is a problem. A real problem. Get the smelling salts. Stat!
I have found myself visiting that mental space where I want to be someplace else. That space that I find only in my dreams and try and fail to remain. Sometimes I awaken during the night and immediately squeeze my eyes shut again. I am that desperate to not be awake.
Its like the Twilight Zone episode where a beleaguered executive falls asleep on a commuter train and awakens in another time and place… a simpler time and place. But, then he comes back to reality and his miserable existence. In the end he dies but there is a sense that he found his way back to the happy place of his dreams.
So where does that leave me?
It’s time I fill my tank and steer myself in the direction of my happy place.
Stat!

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