I am very, very tired.
This has been a long week.
For starters, it's winding down on the end of a publishing season (the fall/winter), and I'm in the home stretch of pushing through the last of the books so they can be in the warehouse on schedule. This, of course, happens simultaneously with the beginning of another season, where we're trying to get books in a little early so they can be sold for course use.
And the end of the year is also full of meetings in fields we publish in, so of course it's important that certain books be available by the time of those meetings so they can be displayed.
Last week, I was out of the office for four days (three on a bindery tour, and one to recover from that trip). This week, two of my staff are out. I have essentially worked three jobs this week. I end my day, go home, and collapse. I am in desperate need of clean laundry. I haven't written any fiction in months. (Granted, that isn't a "this week in hell" issue.) I haven't looked at any new houses in months, either.
I am in desperate need of a vacation. A month-long vacation. I need a vacation long enough that I get bored with sitting around and want to get back to work again. Usually a week will do it, but I suspect I need three or four.