I’ve been counting down the days. Including today, there are only 33 days until I don’t have to make the journey into work. (bean has only 6!)
I have mixed feelings. Mostly I can’t wait. I am really looking forward to being able to focus all my energy at home, instead of having it pulled every which way. But I have done a pretty good job of making myself indispensible at work, and yesterday my manager and I looked at each other grey-faced as we realised how much I have to do to make my leaving ok and how little time there is to do it in.
I have such a strange relationship with work. I love my job - it is rewarding and interesting and I have really fantastic colleagues. And I love my home life - my gorgeous girlfriend, our warm house and chaotic garden, and the two tiny people who are about to join us in it. But I hate the pull between the two. I often wish I could just be doing one or the other, because I always feel like I am not doing either of them justice.
So, time off feels like a little oasis. Naive? Of course. I expect I will work harder over the next year than I have ever worked in my life!
