Three Months: a Retrospective

Since I have officially been on the job three months as of last Tuesday, I went through new hire orientation last week. It was a three-and-a-half-hour meeting, the standout portion of which was a 30-minute long Powerpoint presentation without sound. Since we didn’t have sound (which was an integral part of the presentation), one of our fellow employees actually read each slide. It was just as excruciating as it sounds. Prior to this, we went around the room and everybody said who they were, where they came from, where they work now, blahbitty blah. When I explained that I had been a stay-at-home mom for three years and this was my first foray back into the work world, one of the HR people asked, “Which job is harder?”

She clearly doesn’t have any children. (Really, she doesn’t.) I sidestepped a bit and responded that the hardest part is really balancing the two jobs. And it is! It is a bee-yotch.

So, three months in. Thus far, I have not yet brought in any money, and I still don’t have an office. I’m wondering if there is a correlation. I suppose I could argue that if I had an office, I’d be able to get more done. It is really loud out here in CubeLand.

Three months in. I like my job. I love the organization – I think it is a standout organization that is doing some pretty great things for certain segments of the population that desperately need help. I like knowing that what I do really impacts kids and families in a positive way.

I like my coworkers. I like my boss, I like my boss’ boss, and I like the head of the organization (my boss’ boss’ boss). They are all outstandingly smart and knowledgeable women. I can learn from them, and I am. I am doing pretty varied work, which keeps things interesting. Everybody here pretty much works their asses off, but they keep a good sense of humor. The organization’s philosophy is to have fun while you work, be positive, be present. I like that.

Having said all this, if I won the lottery tomorrow, would I quit my job?

In a hot minute, sister. I miss having a weekend. When I was freelancing from home, I could throw in laundry, tidy up the kitchen, drop by Target on my way back from dropping off Viva, or do the grocery shopping during the week. Now, my weekends are spent cramming in all that shit, along with trying to keep in touch with friends and family, and there is always something else I need to do but can’t get to. Sweet Dub is already worn out from working the 5 AM to 2:30 PM shift, but since I am back at an office job, he tries to pick up the slack – vacuuming on his lunch hour, cooking a couple of times a week, doing laundry when he gets home from work. But we are both worn out right now, and we miss each other. Neither one of us is exercising regularly, our sleep schedules are all funked up, and I’ve found myself snapping at him recently – which I have never done. I apologized for that yesterday. He didn’t cut me any slack. “Are you gonna hug me now, or what?” he said, grabbing me.

Despite all this, in talking about this transition recently, he said this: “You seem more tired, but happier. You needed this.”

It’s all a swirling vortex of emotion and confusion. And on top of it all, the fish died. That’s a whole ‘nother, well, kettle of fish. More on that next time.