This month has been a bear. The previous "regime" at work (i.e., The Crazy People Who Used To Be In Charge, But, Thank Goodness, Are Now OUTTAHERE) promised that we would have a certain amount of work done by August 1 of this year, and we've been pushing like mad to get those various projects finished. I volunteered to work extra time every Saturday in July to get my part done, and I almost had it all knocked when there was a big computer problem that threw a monkeywrench in the machinery. I lost two days waiting for that to be resolved, then another day yesterday helping get lost data put back where it's supposed to be (manually--there was just no time to write a script to get the data from Point A to Point B; it was quicker to call up an army of volunteers to re-enter the data by hand). So the last part of my deadline work ain't gonna get done by deadline, but at least it wasn't part of my original pile of deadline stuff, so I feel OK about it, and I don't think my new boss is too upset, either.
Yep, I have a new boss, too. I forget when that happened, but at least a month ago. He's our graphic artist (still, in addition to his two other recently acquired boss-type jobs), and he's been in the publishing/graphics biz for quite a while, not only in Academia, but out in the Real World, which is something I really appreciate, since I spent a good many years in that world, too.
(In fact, I was the graphic artist, typesetter, and general publishing wonk here when he was still a junior in high school, but we won't hold that against him. Somebody has to do the administrative crap and go to all those meetings, and I'm glad it isn't me.)
Anyway, I've been running at top speed six days a week for a month, so I'm really, really tired and ready to have my weekends back. Maybe a four-day weekend. Or a week of vacation, piled up with kitties. Any of the above would be most welcome.