Yesterday, when I finally got home after my first day of work, visiting my nieces, dance class, and a trip to outright abuse an M&M McFlurry, I felt the satisfaction that settles after a long day. I was tired, yes, but in a good way. It felt like I’d earned the right to shower, remain pantsless, and settle into bed. It was nice.
This morning, when my alarm clock went off, telling me it was time to do it all over again, I felt a wash of nostalgia. Remember a few weeks ago, I thought to myself, when you sat around a lot and ate tons of Pop-Tarts, barely combed your hair and slept as much as you wanted? Why did you give that up again?
Except I forgot that when I was sitting around, eating Pop-Tarts, having my three year old niece tell me I should fix my hair, all I wanted was activity, and the satisfaction of a long day.
There is no cure, really, for the longing. It’s an equal curse to never be satisfied and to never want more. The mission in these upcoming day, should I force myself to accept it, will be to live in the moment. And I’ve started already. I nearly skipped into work this morning, settling into my oddly proportioned cube, and thanked God for what I have in the right now. Because whether I remember this fact at seven o’clock in the morning or not, this is what I wanted. I’m going to enjoy every bit of it until it’s time to want something more. Not something past; something new.
Hello my dearest readers!
Sometime last week, I made a comment to my brother-in-law about how I was saving all my “unemployed fund” money and converting it into a “just in case I don’t like this new job, I can quit” money.
He looked at me a little funny and said that I was obviously going into it all with a defeatist attitude. “They are going to say, “Welcome!” and you are going to say, “I QUIT,” he said with a smirk.
And there it was, in my face. Although I had admitted to myself that I was freaking out about the new job, I hadn’t admitted that it was a fear of failure creeping through me. There really is nothing quite like having someone tell you that you are no longer welcome to work for them, to really mess up your work-esteem. And though I know it was through no fault of my own, failure was taunting me, and it sucked.
One way I deal with feelings like these is to remind myself that my hole is not the deepest. My problems are not the biggest. Other people have been here before, and more importantly, dumber people have done it before. Is that mean? Oh well. I have to deal with these things in any way I can.
My first day went extremely well. My boss is a doll, and everyone I met was nice. My space is pretty cool and it seems like a job I can do. It seems like a job I can rock.
Please excuse my use of the word ‘rock.’
Of course, the first day introductions were awkward. There are, of course, different brands of awkward. Yesterday, I found myself capable of smiling and answering questions, but for some reason, I was just really aware of my hands.
Has this ever happened to anyone? I just didn’t know, for the life of me, what to do with my hands. I stuffed them in my jeans pocket a lot, but that didn’t help the overwhelming feeling of hand-placement-dread.
Anyhow, I mostly wanted to let you all know that it went well. Also, that as I settle into my new work schedule, the posting schedule around the Party may change. I mean, it’s Tuesday! And I’m posting!
Hang in there with me.