Written December 1, 2012:
I am going to miss working with my husband. Even when it drove me crazy, it was still better than not working together. Being together every day and having to rely on one another that much only brought us that much closer. So though it sounds pathetic, and ungrateful, I am going to miss him.
Written December 4, 2012:
It was strange. It felt too much like a normal Friday where I always turned the Barton keys over around 3pm and left for some much needed respite. But this time I was taking my crate of stuff with me and wouldn't be returning Sunday night for another shift change and daily life with the girls. Instead, I will report on Monday to my new office in Williamson Hall and do my best not to be completely overwhelmed by this new call, this new role, the craziness that is bound to ensue. So as much as I tried, it never snapped out of normal Fridaydom even as I handed out passwords, flash drives, my life for the last year and a half. I have had a few moments of reality since then. I was sitting in the conference room just an hour later waiting on an interview to start for a new employee. I had full view from where I sat of the front door of the front door. It was 3:30pm; school had let out already. One of my girls walked in the door with the weekend staff, we were calling the interviewee in at the same moment. But I couldn't help it and it came out of no where. In one instant, I was crying. Tears were filling. I waved my hands over my face, bit my lip, stood and greeted the gentleman with a handshake, hoping he didn't catch the red stains or tears around my eyes. It wasn't a normal Friday anymore. My girls weren't mine anymore. And that hurt in a really deep place.
I am going to miss working with my husband. Even when it drove me crazy, it was still better than not working together. Being together every day and having to rely on one another that much only brought us that much closer. So though it sounds pathetic, and ungrateful, I am going to miss him.
Written December 4, 2012:
It was strange. It felt too much like a normal Friday where I always turned the Barton keys over around 3pm and left for some much needed respite. But this time I was taking my crate of stuff with me and wouldn't be returning Sunday night for another shift change and daily life with the girls. Instead, I will report on Monday to my new office in Williamson Hall and do my best not to be completely overwhelmed by this new call, this new role, the craziness that is bound to ensue. So as much as I tried, it never snapped out of normal Fridaydom even as I handed out passwords, flash drives, my life for the last year and a half. I have had a few moments of reality since then. I was sitting in the conference room just an hour later waiting on an interview to start for a new employee. I had full view from where I sat of the front door of the front door. It was 3:30pm; school had let out already. One of my girls walked in the door with the weekend staff, we were calling the interviewee in at the same moment. But I couldn't help it and it came out of no where. In one instant, I was crying. Tears were filling. I waved my hands over my face, bit my lip, stood and greeted the gentleman with a handshake, hoping he didn't catch the red stains or tears around my eyes. It wasn't a normal Friday anymore. My girls weren't mine anymore. And that hurt in a really deep place.
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