Crossing the line

As if I wasn't already on my way out the door, work will now require me to travel on Sunday for a Monday meeting in New York. Cutting not only into weekend time, but weekend time on a special weekend. Last straw.

I'm having a hard time not letting my dissatisfaction contaminate the rest of my life. I don't want to turn into one of those pessimistic complainers, but I'm having a tough time feeling anything but the misery of the work I hate. I need to remain in touch with it enough to make progress and take action towards a move (which I'm doing). But I need enough distance and indifference so as not to be down.

As K pointed out, when you get the "Sunday Night Dreads" it's time to move on.

It's time to move on.