A few days ago, during a Twitter call out for questions and blog post inspiration, Cristina over at Homeslice asked how I was liking my new job.
Um. Oops.
I guess in the kerfuffle I forgot to talk to you all about this. So let me tell you what happened.
About a week before I was due to start, I got my schedule for my first week. It was wildly erratic and insanely long. Including lunch breaks I was set to work forty-five hours. When you include travel time to and from, not account for traffic, I was setting myself up to be away from home more than fifty-five hours that week.
As I sat down to juggle rides here and there for the kids, prepping Kristyn to deal with getting off the bus and being home with her siblings on her own for a few hours a night and generally freaking out, I knew what had to be done. John knew it. The kids knew it. We all did. With this job, I would live in two places - work and home. There would be no soccer, there would be no ball hockey, there would be no gym. I couldn't commit to coaching or driving or even just sitting on the sidelines and watching my kids excel.
I wasn't ready to let it go yet and didn't want this to be my idea, so of course, I started a fight with John so that I could get him to tell me not to do it. That didn't happen, so it was a wasted fight, but it felt good to cry and yell at someone.
The job was right up my alley. I love people and I love clothes and I heart discounts with my whole body. It wasn't a dirty job that involved hauling bags of mail or getting paper-cuts and ruing any manicure I've ever had. It was all mine and I got it all on my own. I impressed this woman so much that she went to bat for me on so many things. You can imagine how hard it was to call her and turn this opportunity down. But it was right.
I'm still working at the post office. You know what? It's not so bad now. I will never work past 6:00pm and rarely work past 5:PM. It takes seven minutes to get to work and my boss is incredibly understanding about the demands of working with young children. It's not glamourous work, but I get to see many of my friends in this small town on a daily basis. I might not be challenged intellectually, but I still get to freak many people out with my mad skills at remembering post office box numbers.
It's all good. I'm happy with this choice. If I've learned one thing it's that I'm still young and I can still impress. There will be time for the glamour eventually.
Just another example of how complicatedly boring my life can be, eh?
