Time is relative

I hate the fact that time never feels the same. Time seems to go so quickly when it's weekend, or when I've got holidays, or even in the evenings when I can just relax. But often time just drags on and on and on. I can't believe that it's only just past 11. Feels like I've been here too long already. Even though we are getting a little busier, we now have a new temp who works really hard. So much of the work that I used to help out with is (eagerly) attended to by her.

I'm having one of those "is this all there is to life?" and "the only thing that keeps me going at the moment is my husband" kind of weeks. I'm (appropriately) reading "Where is God when it hurts?" by Philip Yancey. So far what he says makes complete sense. Without pain there will be no joy. I mean, how can I appreciate the weekends if my week is always great? We wouldn't know how to appreciate food, money, clothes, friends and love if we haven't known what it's like to live without them. In this way pain is necessary.

Pain is necessary. But am I really in pain? I feel more numb most of the time. Floating in limbo waiting for... Not sure what I'm waiting for. I think I'm rather angry with God at the moment. Where is He? Maybe this book will provide me with some answers...