I'm starting a job on Monday. Yes. A job. One of those things. It's been a while. Five years actually.
I wasn't really looking...it sort of happened. I've been back and forth since before Christmas over whether to do it or not and it's been the source of considerable anxiety. Finding good childcare, leaving my babies, slow erosion of self-esteem of the "home with the kidlets, no brain left" kind, you know the regular stuff. Anyway, the job is interesting (marketing - I'm an "arm waver" as my Dad calls them) and the company has been very accommodating to my request of part time hours. So I'm taking the plunge and reminding myself how lucky I am that at least I have a choice in the matter, for which I have always felt extremely grateful.
As well as excited, I'm absolutely bloody terrified, although I keep telling myself the anticipation is probably much worse than the reality.
So now you know.
A weekend of distractions is just what the Doctor ordered.
