What's My Problem Exactly???

Dear Confusia,
I want to preface this with saying that I know that everything I am about to complain about is of my own doing. I really can blame only myself for all this junk, but nevertheless I'm about to commence to bitching about my life.
This weekend was absolutely exhausting. Forget anything I've ever said about the weekend and know that this weekend I actually wanted it to be Monday so that I could get back to my normal work schedule.
For some reason, I decided that it would be perfectly fine to work not only my normal Friday night shift, but I also decided that I could work Saturday AND Sunday. Seriously? What was I thinking?
I was so exhausted by the time I got home Saturday night that when Steven (whom I had after-work plans with) called I had to tell him that unless he wanted to watch me sleep (probably with drool running out of my mouth), that we'd have to reschedule for another time. Which we did, for Sunday when I got home from work. He ended up staying over until midnight and now here I find myself DRAGGING ASS at work.
Why do you think it is that I feel this compulsion to work so much?
Love ya,
Terps
PS Did you get the book back?

Well, I'll tell you...I don't know. I myself have no such compulsion, but end up working all the dang time anyway. This past weekend wasn't so bad for me. In fact, I'd say it was really great! My job at work, though, is much easier than my job at home, so I'm in a different situation. You could take the time off and just relax on the weekend if you wanted to. I'm FORCED to work. My life is kind of weird right now as I think about it.

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K." I just like to stick that line in randomly wherever possible.

I got the book back, but haven't had a chance to read it yet. I should get it back to you by the end of the day. Hope springs eternal!
Love, Confusia