Bittersweet

Have you ever worked the skin off of your hiney, all the while having the sensation of running a marathon, felt like only a coma sized nap will cure your exhaustion and yet, somehow, said to yourself and others, "hell, I can do another five to ten miles?" If so, that's where my mental state is at right now.
I've just completed the latest of seven, count 'em seven, summer therapeutic programs I have led and I can't seem to shake this feeling that I've only just begun. Crazy, I know. Here's the thing though, despite the tone of my last post I actually saw evidence that the skills I was trying to teach these kids were taking hold. Some of it stuck after all!
For the last few days, leading up to the program's last, I caught myself thinking I wanted more. I even dared say it out loud.
See, the thing is, I'm a very social person and socializing is my fuel for fun. Basically, if you can't find me, I'm talking to strangers. I love people and being around them. So the end of camp (the summer program's unofficial non-Medicaidese name) brings the Webster's definition of "bittersweet" to life. Yeah, I'm freakin' tired. Yeah, those kids frustrated me on a regular basis and at break-neck speed. Yeah, I hated the Jeep Commander I had to drive 100 plus miles a day this summer for reasons too numerous to count, most notably that its MPG is hovering in the low to mid teens. And yes, the rancid blueberry muffin that almost snuffed the life-force out of my trusty co-pilot and myself on yesterday's camp kid pick-up run quickly became my least favorite culinary experience of late. However and honestly, minus the the harbinger of death that was that muffin, this type of work was made for an extrovert like myself. I'm completely in my element and though it's not humanly possible to love every minute, I love most. I already miss it and will til next summer.
That's me, right now, in the middle of everything.