A completely frustrating time at work the past few days.

I've been in class, hoping to learn something new, and really only got the bullets points from the powerpoint presentation read to me. Not my idea of a worthy endeavor.

I was challenged about my Shabbat-friendly schedule by a co-worker. It's not the first time she has been forthcoming with her opinion about it, but it still pissed me off. The second day of Rosh Ha'Shana, Yom Kippur, and our first wedding anniversary fall on Sundays, and I am supposed to work 5 weekend-days (Sat or Sun) in a six-week schedule. It's normally all fine and dandy - I work my Sundays with the minimal of problems. But this time of year, it is all messed up by the hand of G-d.

I manage not to work Friday or Saturday on the floor. Friday is my Research gig, which I must say I enjoy, albeit a sad shadow of it's former self.

And Saturday is the Shabbat, which I am making more of an effort to cherish as the gift she is.

I realize I do - indeed - cherish her. She is a reviver of a soul that is so often bruised and sore. It is the sweet breath of the Universe, blowing back into us, after we have exhausted ourselves in the six days of labour. A chance to re-inflate our sails, and set course for the next week.

But she doesn't get that, and I am not sure if she is actually up to hear it without either feeling threatened, or set upon. When in reality, I could actually be quite up for a frank, open and soul-sharing conversation about the nature of my faith.

Nah - too scary for her...