back at it

Back to the trenches today. I got the temp gig at the bank, working in the Pink Cubicles of Boredom. I guess my passive-aggressive negative energy wasn't strong enough, which is probably fine because I have become attached to my home and my child and my wiener dog and would like to be able to keep all three. Fortunately I have an 11:30 start time today - they are easing me into it I guess, like I'm coming off a maternity leave. They say you should do that, "ease" back into a job you detest after you have a baby. I say maternity leave is a good way to ease on OUT of a job you hate. If you loved what you did, you would be chomping at the bit to go back, you wouldn't have to ease yourself into it, right?

I do sort of feel like I've had another baby though. Me. The new and improved more creative and adventurous me. Perhaps I should rename myself, or start drinking breast milk again to celebrate. (Wait, is that weird?) I was out doing yard work yesterday and my across-the-street neighbor wished me a happy Earth Day (Who knew? Not me even though I try to live green and love my Mother Earth) and we got to talking. Apparently SHE quit corporate America last year and started her own videography company! Must be something in the water over here. So I'm going to hook up with her and her group of creative peeps and see what comes of it. If nothing else, it will be nice to get to know my across-the-street neighbors whom I have lived across the street from for eleven years now.

Now that I think about it, I guess this rebirth sort of makes geographical sense. When I bought my house eleven years ago I was literally surrounded by the aged. Immediately next door was a couple who were in their late 80's; two doors down a woman in her late 70's; across the street was a woman who was in her late 90's (she lived to be 101 and was still weeding her yard!), and across my other side street were THREE people in their 90's, a woman, her sister, and her brother-in-law. One by one they either moved to assisted living, moved to a nursing home, or died - or some combination of the three. I guess it was the old me's turn to pass on to the next phase too. Fortunately, for me and you and my kid and my wiener dog, I'm doing it symbolically and not "for reals." The adventure continues...

-Jenny, Undecided