Notice I didn’t use the phrase, “I’ve gone back to work.” That would make no sense. I’ve been working non-stop for nearly 9 years as a mother. And before that I was working hard as an elementary school teacher. And before that I worked hard as a college student. (See where I’m going with this?) So I’m not “going back to work” because work is all I have ever done.
But when they are paying you–with real money–to do a job, well then you are employed. Granted, I was being paid as a columnist for the past three years. However, I never really thought of myself as being employed because my column was written on my own time, usually in pajamas or if I was feeling really enthusiastic, yoga pants.
Now I get to go three days a week to a place where I can put on cute clothes and make-up and someone actually cares/notices. I have a feeling that showing up in a seventeen-year-old sorority party T-shirt and well-worn flannel pajama bottoms would not be considered “professional.” So because I am now employed, I have the perfect excuse to expand my wardrobe (new handbag included of course.)
Can you tell that this job makes me happy? If you can’t, well it does. This new job makes me happy. It may only be part-time, but it gives me a purpose that doesn’t involve laundry or grocery shopping or cleaning house. I get to use my brain for something other than really hard 3rd grade word problems or figuring out how to cut a recipe in half. The people I work with are laid back and fun and for whatever reason are excited to have me around. And the best part of all? I get to be around cool adults for 5 hours straight and have adult conversations without a child in sight!
No, I take that back. You wanna know what is really the best part of my job? They are bringing in Chick-fil-A for a staff lunch meeting tomorrow. That’s the best part of my job.