T minus 8 minutes.

by

Lots of good, good things to write about – not least of which, the shining sun. But right now I’m feeling a lot about work. I texted my boss this morning, only to log into my email and see she emailed me on Friday. I’m at the point where I’ve just sent The Email saying I probably am going to be off sick until I start my annual leave and then maternity leave….we’re going to be talking later this afternoon. I’m waiting for a phone call from some random doctor to extend my sick leave a couple of weeks – I’m hesitant to be signed off until the end of May as I think I may have already gulped up all my sick leave entitlement this year.

Practicalities aside, I miss work. I had three nightmares last night about work. There were no vampires, but lots of stress and worry. I know I can’t actually go back, and that makes things a bit better because it takes choice out of my hands. We had a very brief outing on Saturday (one of the good things I will write about later this afternoon), and it left me incapacitated yesterday. I even had difficulty walking. Good times.

But it’s saying goodbye to work which is painful. Not least of which because I’m not sure I’ll be going back at the end of maternity leave. I don’t know how I will react to being a stay at home mom; I don’t know if our finances will hold up. But even if I go back to part time work, I don’t know if it can reasonably be to this job. I am telling them I am coming back as that is the official plan right now, but the idea of not going back is gutting.

I worked for Day Job for four and a half years, most of which was spent wishing I didn’t work there. I’ve only been at Operation Fingerpaint since last June, and I can’t believe that after years of wanting the perfect job now that I’ve got it I’m not actually there. I feel a big sense of loss.

Don’t get me wrong. I am excited about the babies, about preparing for them, about meeting them. This is a whole new chapter in my life and will probably be the best (and hardest) thing we ever do. But I’ve got plenty of room in my heart to also mourn Operation Fingerpaint, and what it means. I do believe life – and my own decisions – will take me in good directions. But right now I feel a little sad.

Anyway. Hoping the doctor calls soon and it’s no problem to just get my sick note extended. Tomorrow I go to meet the specialist physiotherapist who will help me with my womanly pregnancy problems, and Thursday I’m going to see a midwife. Busy, busy.

If I drove and Operation Fingerpaint was near where we live, I would be trying to see if I could manage going back. But job aside (which involves minimal walking but probably enough to floor me), I don’t think I could actually handle the commute. You all know what this means – no more cozy chats with John, my crazy train friend. Oh, wait, I guess that’s a good thing.

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