Hmmm…I’ve got an offer of work. Oh blow. Of course, this is good. It means some dosh coming in, it means I can go back to spending normally instead of keeping checks on my purse all the time. It means I’ll be intellectually challenged again. I won’t have to tick ‘housewife’ on forms again (I’m surprised at how much I loath that term) and I can work from home. Its only three days a week. Perfect!
However…
I know I only stopped working three months ago, but really, I’m out of that mindset now. I like jogging through my day, deciding what to do on the spur of the moment. For instance, this afternoon I took the dog for a nice run round the playing field, came home checked a few emails, thought I’d get the bedrooms ready for the Christmas visitors, took one look and changed my mind and went and made some bread instead. It’s great. I am master of my own destiny. I feel strangely fulfilled. Work is going to interfere with all that. I’m going to have structure my day’s and everything. I’ll have to be nice to people I don’t particularly like again. Oh blow.
Of course, I’m going to say yes, it would be stupid not to. I’m hoping that I’m still going to find the time and inclination to blog, even if its only to have a moan (what are friends for?), and with any luck I’ll still be able to take control of my workload – one of the most important factors when it comes to job satisfaction I’m told.
Oh well, It’s not quite confirmed yet, so for the time being, I can carry on rebooting, and tell myself I’ve still got the rest of this year before I have to knuckle down!