This is Only a Test
I want to piss off catbert but it really won't. It will only hurt the customers and myself in a way. I have worked this week to negotiate a graduated return to work. In a month I will be working full-time at a job I left almost 2 years ago. We'll see if I can really do it after not giving it a thought for that long. Hmmmm....
I am in agony over this. I want to apply for flippin' stress leave. I have just spent a huge hunk of our monies to retain a nanny who made a cad look cuddly. I pretty much begged my daughter to trust this person. Then packed it up -- switched identities again from professional-workerama Mama to sage and hale in the hearty of the homey mommie. For about negative 13 hours I had some clarity of vision. I had a place and now..... what am I doing?
I hate to put my family through this again. All the hours dropped from actual life to find a source of childcare that may or may not exist. All the identity creep I go through to get back to a place I admittedly enjoy but can't entire believe in at the moment. But it isn't really them. It is me. My tears. The strain on them is hard to quantify. The strain on me? That's easy to describe; it is omniscient. Inescapable.
It is hardly worth it. Emphasis on the hardly.
My cousin Wendy always said I can do anything for a year. I will try this two children, two career household thing. But let me go on record, I'm dubious.
I am in agony over this. I want to apply for flippin' stress leave. I have just spent a huge hunk of our monies to retain a nanny who made a cad look cuddly. I pretty much begged my daughter to trust this person. Then packed it up -- switched identities again from professional-workerama Mama to sage and hale in the hearty of the homey mommie. For about negative 13 hours I had some clarity of vision. I had a place and now..... what am I doing?
I hate to put my family through this again. All the hours dropped from actual life to find a source of childcare that may or may not exist. All the identity creep I go through to get back to a place I admittedly enjoy but can't entire believe in at the moment. But it isn't really them. It is me. My tears. The strain on them is hard to quantify. The strain on me? That's easy to describe; it is omniscient. Inescapable.
It is hardly worth it. Emphasis on the hardly.
My cousin Wendy always said I can do anything for a year. I will try this two children, two career household thing. But let me go on record, I'm dubious.
Labels: employment crapola, screwball comedy dressed up as a saga
posted by mo-wo at 9:44 p.m.
4 Comments:
Oh sweetie. I wish I had some words of wisdom that would put your mind at ease. But alas I'm comic relief in this saga. I could put on a funny hat, a men's dress shirt and play some up tempo music while dancing around shacking my booty toward the camera thereby stealing Cameron Diaz's mojo. Would that help? Nah, didn't think so.
Perhaps Tom Hanks (in his persona as P-Man) could give you some good loving in lieu? I assume he can feel his balls, again?
And the working title for your working saga should include the word Dubious.
Okay, time for beddy byes. My Dristan tabs are kicking in.
I don't know what to say, except to wish you well, and observe that even on the days that SUCK, when you've completely lost the confidence that everything will somehow turn out all right -- life goes on, and then it all changes yet again.
That is right...nothing is forever....you CAN change you mind about it and NOT agonize...the kids will be fine......breathe.....and I hope you find some childcare...did you call the place I said?
I'm holding my breath for you...I really hope that - whatever the answer is - you find some relief in it.
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