My Guy has been traveling all week. This has left me with a solid 4 hours every night during which I must entertain myself.
Have I been reading? Sewing? Writing?
Oh, silly kitten. No. I’ve been cleaning. And doing laundry. And cleaning the big labradoodle’s ears.
I know. I know! I don’t know why, either. I should have used this time to at least watch all the stuff on the DVR that my husband hates. But instead, I’ve been vacuuming.
I felt all productive and June Cleaver-ish … until I realized that tomorrow is my last day at Globotron.
So, Friday, I have an appointment with my periodontist at 8 a.m. What am I going to do once 9 a.m. rolls around and my gums have a clean bill of health?
Cleaning would have been an easy win – something mindless to make me feel like I’m still a productive member of society. Instead, I’m going to do … what? Because I feel like I need to be doing something.
Big picture, I’m going to do consulting and writing. But it’s still a big transition from being Corporate America’s bitch for years. And it’s not like I’m rolling out of bed Friday morning with a giant to-do list. I’m … transitioning. Not like gender reassignment, but, like, who-the-hell-am-I reassignment.
I know I don’t fit in the corporate mold. I know I’m much more artistic and creative than I have allowed myself to be. Rationally, I know that part of allowing myself to be artistic and creative means that I need to allow myself to not have a to-do item to cover every waking moment. I know I don’t have to earn my keep as a human being.
I know these things rationally. But emotionally? Well, it’s going to take some getting used to.