Back to life, back to reality

I spent the last day of my freedom yesterday in sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Comfort clothes. I tried to stay away from the computer for the most part and read a lot of my book. We rode up to our Kangaroo for a gallon of milk and that's the only time we stepped foot outside the house. I felt like I was preparing myself to go into battle. I was so sad, thinking about how fast my vacation went by and going back and forth between feeling guilty for not getting more done around the house to berating myself for not laying around and relaxing enough, from not spending enough time with Brian to feeling like if he said one more thing to me I would answer him with a smack in the mouth. It's fun being me.

Now I am feeling a little silly for all that brain drama last night. As I was driving into work today I started thinking, I really don't have that hard of a job. I don't have to answer a phone hardly ever. I don't have to make invoices match anymmore. I'm not responsible for people's paychecks anymore. I don't have to have a lot of human contact. I work four days a week, for the love of God. So a little pep talk, and by the time I walked in I felt ready to face the day and to co-exist with Crazy again after almost three weeks without her.

She started off the day by furiously sweeping her work area. I'm not sure what kind of dirt could've accumulated during the time we were gone, but it must've been a lot because she was at it for a good half hour or so. I sighed a little and thought, Welcome Back Kotter.

A little while later my chirpy boss came in to welcome us back and tell us all about her fabulous trip to Turkey over the holidays. Turkey, really? Okay. Skye liked it well enough when she lived there for awhile as a little kid, but I've never thought of it as a highly desired vacation destination. A lot of Skye's pictures from that time look brown and sandy. My boss apologized for not having her pictures ready to show us yet - it's amazing how she thinks we actually are excited to see them. Does she really think that? I wonder. Either way, she then walked up closer to my desk and gave me some news.

The office I'd requested moving into about two months ago? Is now mine for the taking.

My own office. By myself. Four walls and a door. That I can shut whenever I want. A bigger desk than the one I have now, bookshelves on two of the walls, a leftover radio/cd player nobody wants. Mine. No more Crazy and her Crazypants ways. I don't know how I'll get through the day without hearing her speakerphone conversations, how she cuts people off before they have a chance to ask her anything else or say good-bye to her, diligently clutching her purse tightly to her side wherever she goes as if she holds the key to the universe inside, her Angry Black Talk Radio shows, etc. The only time I'll see her now is in meetings and passing each other in the hall. I'm still in shock a little.

I had to exert a lot of self control not jump up and hug my little 4'9", 90-pound boss. Not to hug her little peanut head to my ample breast while I shed tears of joy into her steely gray locks. The urge was very strong. Instead I smiled a lot and thanked her a few times and asked when I could begin the moving process to which she answered as soon as I wanted.

Dear Diary, this is the best first day back to work ever!

Of course lest you think everything in my life is all unicorn poop and party glitter today, Brian's truck wouldn't start this morning and he's stuck at home, trying to fix it with no success so far.

But that's okay. You know how I worry if something isn't wrong. I can live with this one right now.