(It still doesn't seem quite real.)
I'M. STARTING. A. JOB!!
And I am absolutely, positively, feel-it-in-my-bones,
terrified.
My career as a stay at home parent is quickly coming to an end. I am excited to begin this new chapter in my life; after all, I've been pondering it (to death) since I left the workforce, lo those many years ago. But I'm also, in equal measure, scared out of my wits.
Those aforementioned many years are a big part of my (current) neuroses. It has been nine and a half years since I left the 'bring home the bacon' part of me back in DC. When I left, we didn't have smartphones or social media (MySpace doesn't count, right?). I left my last office with my résumé on a -- I kid you not -- floppy disk. So much has changed in the modern workplace and I am petrified that I'll be hopelessly behind the times.
And, in addition to all the new-fangled, techno-stuff, what if that brain I had back in 2005 has become irretrievably slushy from years of under-use? What if they ask me important, grown-up, work-y questions and all I can say is, "Uhh, Phineas and Ferb? Chicken nuggets? Oh, I know -- LEGO!" I also have no specific experience in the position I've accepted. Having worked in and around nonprofits, I know what grant writers basically do (and I bought 'Grant Writing For Dummies.' Seriously.) but, I have never done it myself. What if I completely stink at it? Yikes.
Also, the last time I had a J-O-B, I was mommy to just one little, tiny, baby boy. I didn't need to worry too much about work-life balance. As much as I wanted to spend time with my child, let's face it - when they're super little, they are okay with you working late a couple of nights. My mommy guilt to the contrary, he probably didn't even notice. Now, however, they're old enough to be bummed out if I can't take them to Taekwondo lessons or someone else picks them up from school. They have had 9 years of my undivided attention (the little one's entire life) now they won't. Granted, my new job is extremely flexible, part-time, and mostly virtual; but it will be taking a bit of my
Sadly, there's SO much more about which to panic (I am an affirmed worst-case scenario woman): This is my first job since my stroke - will that be a factor? What if I am way older than everyone else working there? What if they hate my shoes? Et cetera, et cetera...
But I want this.
I want this bad. And no amount of self-doubts, insecurities, or loony misgivings are going to stop me. My comfort zone is TOO comfy and my rut is getting too deep. I need this. I may be a basket case in anticipation of Tuesday, but I'm also electrified. I'm gonna do it, and it's gonna be great. Right. Right? I hope.
Here goes nothing :-)
