I
return to work tomorrow. I’ve been doing a lot of stuff on the computer at
home, and I’ve done the odd visit for an hour or so at each location, and
there’s been a lot of phone contact, but tomorrow I will return to my office,
and my regular duties. It’ll be hard. I’ve been with Philippa and Mathew almost
constantly and now I’ll be out of the way, but there we are – needs must. I
have to say that everyone at work has been amazing – from my superiors who
allowed to me to have two weeks off, to the duty managers elsewhere who gave up
their festive festivities to cover for me, to my staff members who were keeping
things ticking over in my absence. They’ve all been so supportive, and so nice.
I’m
still finding it hard to process how much has changed and how quickly I’ve
embraced it. When I was busy looking ahead and panicking about just about
everything, going back to work was one of the things I most fretted about. How
would I cope with leaving Philippa and the baby at home? What if I WANTED to
get back because I was already fed up with Junior? Those are just two of about
five hundred things I thought about; all of them negative. Now the time has
arrived, it feels fine. I’ve been in my position since September and I’m
comfortable with it. I am quite good at separating different aspects of my
life, so when I’m a husband I’m a husband, and when I’m a manager I’m a
manager, etc. So this should be just another case of compartmentalising
different parts of my existence. I can be a help at home, then drive to work
and click into work mode. Other people do it every day, so why shouldn’t I?
It's
quite exciting in a way, if I’m honest. I do genuinely enjoy my new work set-up
and I’m intrigued to see what will happen with it in the coming months. Now,
when I’m there, I get to look forward to a baby waiting for me at home. It’s
all good!
RC 6-1-19
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