I’m trying to rid myself of that “just been run over by a bus” feeling.
A quick rundown of what occurred this week, for those of you not keeping score:
1. I started a new job.
2. Heir 1 started a new job.
3. Dirtman started a new job.
4. Heir 2 headed off for his first year of college.
This last in particular has us reeling, more than we expected. That he seems to fit in so comfortably at Roanoke College; that his move-in was a breeze made possible by several Roanoke upperclassmen (and women), who descended upon us as soon as we pulled up to the curb and had him unloaded in a matter of minutes in spite of a torrential downpour; that the college fed us to the gills; that he and his roommate are so perfectly matched, it’s eerie (the clincher came when we went out to his parents’ car and it was the same as ours…); that his academic advisor is perfect for a freshman math geek – knowledge of all this was still not enough to prevent that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I might add that all this emotion is all due to our missing him and not a bit about being worried. He’s had plenty of freedom at home, while we were his safety net, and he’s proved himself over and over has a guy with enough common sense to stay out of trouble, but enough self confidence to try new things and accept others’ differences. He’ll be absolutely fine.
Us – not so much. But we’re getting there.
I don’t know what to say about my new job, mostly because I’m still adjusting to everything – both at home and at work. I know I like my co-workers, which is half the battle right there. But I come home exhausted, probably because of that adjustment period, and not much use to anyone and especially not able to tackle housework. Since I could be working six days a week, this is something I’m going to have to force myself to do when I get home or things will be going downhill fast – and taking my mood with it.
But I’m giving myself a few weeks, especially in view of everything else that is going on.