Thursday, December 23, 2010

Last Days and First Days

I took this job before I thought I could hold down any kind of job, much less one that took both analytical skill and creativity. I would come here, sit at my desk and cry, especially in those first months. I would run off to the bathroom, sit in a stall and cry. I would go to the gym, shower and cry and walk back through the parking garage and cry. Leaving the house, leaving the living facsimile of my dead baby every day gave me the space to finally and fully (?) grieve. So I came here and soaked many tissues, napkins and shirt sleeves. It was what I needed.

Three years later, I am ready to move on. I feel as though I have outgrown this position and it's choking me. I am hungry for more. I am not afraid of anything except neglecting my family.

Four years ago today I was sitting in a hospital bed. Around this time of day, I would have been hooked up to the monitors for my morning NST. My girls were alive in me. Three years ago (almost to the day, I started on the 26th), I started working here. Today is my last day.

I am ready to kick some ass.


  1. First, a deep throated HUZZAH! I am ready for you to kick some ass too.

    I find myself in an identical situation, although my tenure is far longer than 3 years. I was feeling antsy before the pregnancy, but then maternity leave looks like a good and stable thing, then the Loss, and being in a familiar and non-demanding space, well, there seemed like nothing more valuable. But now, now...I am searching for an ass to kick.

    Go forward and do great things, my lovely friend. But find some time to come up north for a day before you do.

  2. Good for you! Look forward to hearing about it all and wishing you much in the coming days.

  3. So happy for you my friend. Lots of love, Notorious BIB

  4. I tried (and failed) to leave a comment last week. Just wanted to wish you lots of luck on all of your big plans. May the road and the asses rise up to meet you.