It’s amazing how one phone call can trigger a sequence of events that changes your life and affect those around you. The most amazing part? I wanted it. Yeah, silly me.
The phone call happened on Friday, a week and a day ago, and already it almost feels as if it is a different life. Different rules, different concerns, different thoughts and worries. All different because in a blink of five minutes I went from being unemployed to being hired…
Yeah, I’m now officially a member of the working class. I’ll be going to work every weekday, putting in 8 hours (approximately) a day, 40 hours a week. Yay, right? So I thought then, I was on cloud 9 from Friday until Monday for my first day of work. I was on cloud 9 until around Tuesday, cloud 8 on Wednesday, then reality started to slide home Thursday. I’m away from my kids all day, when I get off of work I cook dinner then collapse into exhaustion because I went from waiting to get access to the computer to suddenly having it and getting geared up to go.
Friday was when it decided to smack me upside the head. In the morning my son was angry at me. As a 5-year-old it wasn’t over anything severe, just that his clothes were inappropriate (dress shirt over sweat pants, I think not). So, to get him out of his funk I spent 20 minutes getting him to giggle through the magic of tickling. Works every time. Then I told him I had to go to work and the world flipped. He shut down, became sad and turned away. No pouting, no crying, just shut down, the laughter gone and quiet disappointment taking its place. It was enough to make me want to cry.
To cheer him up, I came home for lunch for the first time. Found out it was a bad idea, not because of the same reaction from him, but because I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to curl up with him and stay there, ensconced back in the way it was. Couldn’t, but I wanted to…
I had prepared for almost every thing that could happen at the change of employment, except for that. My world has changed and it has done it so dramatically in a period of 8 days. Apparently the kids are adjusting a hell of a lot better than I am due to my severe case of separation anxiety.
Somehow, I didn’t think it would be this hard.