So THIS is what it feels like

Life is funny.

Six months ago, I wouldn't've told you that I had everything in life–that I was inordinately lucky. But I was.

Now, I'm not saying that I had the greatest gig in history, but I knew my job, I was good at my job, I was comfortable in my job, I like the people at my job. And I had a 21-minute commute.

Our kids weren't in daycare or afterschool programs.

Now, I think I'm feeling what most people have always felt. Run-run-running all week, then living for the weekends...and trying to catch a few blissful moments with my family whenever they arise. We're having more Family Movie Nights. And "Go Fish". And jigsaw puzzles and bike rides together (not at the same time).

And it feels good. And it feels right. And six months ago, I didn't know how lucky I could feel when my life is so much more complicated than it was.

My little chatterbox

I've started really listening to my younger son.

Not that I didn't listen to him before now, but I've committed myself to really absorbing his words while 5-year-old logic still reigns supreme.

Tonight he told me he thought he was "Made in China".

About a week ago, he told me that his new shirt was "so new. Well, maybe it's not THAT new. But it's new"

And he keeps raising his hand at the dinner table to ask me whether I, for instance, " 'member the time when there were those girls we met at that cabin and we all went on the boat together. I wanna do that again."

Now, despite the nuggety pearls of impossibly cute wisdom, Stephen has become a running monologue, the human equivalent of white noise. He simply never shuts up until he finally falls asleep.

Woe to his kindergarten teacher. Maybe he'll grow out of it.

Tick tock tick tock

It's getting toward the end of Week Four at the new gig. My boss asked me if I was ready to make it permanent. And I punted. Said I needed more time.

A myriad of factors really have made it hard to judge. (Really!) Factoring in the long commute. The inertia of getting my thinking reoriented after 14 years of TDI. The unusual helplessness of a new gig (Where do I get Post-Its...and other, less trivial questions).

But, in the end, she asked me if I can really be happy doing what I've been doing - in the way the New Gig does it. And honestly truly seriously...I just don't know.

I'd be a fool to walk away from a reliable paycheck. I can make this great. Right? Can't I?

Everybody likes a warm shower

Imagine it: You turn on the water...you climb into the shower - and the water is scalding. You tell yourself the water can't stay this hot for long. You get a little used to it, but ask yourself how long you can take the scalding water until you'll start to burn.

Then, without warming, the water turns frigid.

You wonder: How long will this last? Is this better or worse than the boiling streams?

And you wish that you had some way to regulate the two - just a little - to make yourself a warm and satisfying shower.

This, in essence, has been my first few weeks at the new gig. Frantic one day - playing catch up, scribbling on Post-Its, running from desk to desk, files were due an hour ago...then - the next day - wait and review and archive and wait and think and hope and collect and review and wait.

I know every job has its ebb and flow...but tidal waves and trickles is a new one on me.

Don't let the ink dry

Another week gone...and my email and calendar at the new office still don't work right.

...so many big adjustments...

I'm acclimating to a place that kicks off projects at 4 and has them essentially done by noon the next day. Over and over and over. Soon it will be automatic - it isn't yet.

I always joked that I'm a great food improviser: I can open the fridge and make a tasty dinner from leftover bits, castoffs and sauces. That's how I've been surviving at my new gig: stitch together a phrase from the previous project, mix with a dash of two pieces ago, fold in a healthy dose of boilerplate, and blend.

These patchwork quilts will suffice. For now.

Hit the road, Jack

My new gig started yesterday, and there's so much to adjust to that the jury is definitely still out.

I know that I'll have to stop saying things like, "At my old job, we X, Y and Z". But, so far, I've found it hard to resist the temptation.

Isn't that the healthiest thing for any new relationship?? Unfiltered talk about the ex?

One thing I DO know is that I've been lucky with the commute so far. It's more than double my former commute (there I go again...comparing apples and kiwis) but mostly, it moves. On some level, I tell myself that it's a good thing - I'll get to catch up on my books-on-CD on the 30-mile drive. But when I see the unpredictable patches of brake lights at 7:30 every morning, I'm never really sure they'll let up and the traffic will get going again.

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