It’s a Thursday afternoon and here I sit, in limbo. Having handed in my notice at work, it feels like I am just waiting for the end to start. And once that happens, perhaps I can begin anew.
I do feel better though, despite the nagging fear that there won’t be another job out there, or that I won’t be able to find the self-motivation to finish the projects that I am determined to make time for. In this limbo state, I can see more clearly that this is not a bad thing.
Change is important, and whether life after my old job turns out to be good, bad or even a complete surprise, I know that I would have regretted staying.
So, thank you to everyone who sent me messages or who I’ve chatted with since my last blog post . Thank you for your support, concern and advice – I appreciate your thoughts, both positive and negative (or sensible, as they’re also known ). It’s good to know you’re there.
And the countdown continues…
I was chatting with my work-mates the other day about a self-help book that one of them was reading. One of the positive reinforcement exercise that she explained involved picturing yourself at a time or place where you feel completely relaxed, happy and stress-free.
This, combined with my recent trip to the Gower in south Wales with hubby, really put home a point for me:
The only place I feel really worry-free and at one with myself is at the coast.
Whether I’m scrambling over rocks at the bottom of cliffs in the freezing cold or gently strolling along a sunny sandy beach doesn’t seem to matter – I can’t help but feel good; relaxed and alive.
So there we go: I’ve found my happy place – where’s yours?
This is me in the morning - it is not possible for me to shine before 11am. (image from icanhazcheezburger.com)
Thank goodness for husband gently shaking me awake this morning. If he hadn’t, I swear I would still be in bed; dead to the world.
In fact, this is the case most mornings…
Every day is a blur from when I try valiantly to force my eyes to open at around 7.30 (ish – thank you snooze button), until the point where I’m sitting at my desk as the minute just ticks past 9…and even then there’s plenty of melodramatic yawning and eye-rubbing.
Somehow, I am always running late – usually because time magically disappears in the shower. One second I’m stepping in, and the next I’m looking at the clock 20 minutes later thinking ‘what the heck happened there? I really need to get out!’. Or I’ll get distracted by the radio – I’m nodding along to a tune on 6Music and then suddenly the realisation hits me that actually, the news has already been on, which means that it’s gone 8.30, which means I should be out the door already and I still need to brush my hair and clean my teeth…
At this early hour I am supremely jealous of (and grateful for!) my hubby, who seems able to leap out of bed, greet the day with a smile and even have time to make sandwiches for us both… how is that even possible? We went to bed at the same time; how is he not tired? How is he able to string coherent sentences together? And concentrate enough to put ham between slices of bread without cutting himself?
I suppose now is the time to issue an official apology for every morning that I have taken my sleepiness out on him in a grumpy way: I am very sorry, it’s not you – it is most definitely me. Cheerfulness doesn’t normally start to creep in until at least 11 ish.
But then you know that – you’ve lived with the monster that I am in the morning for a long time now, and still haven’t given up on at least getting a hug before work. Well done you.