IF things go to plan (and you’ll notice that’s a big if) then I have just 14 weeks left of being a software developer. 14 weeks left of putting on makeup and heels every morning. 14 weeks left of the rat race.
This morning I was looking through the corporate half of my wardrobe, wondering when I’ll ever wear those shirts and dresses again. Women pushing strollers through the park in full business attire isn’t something you see much around here. I’d consider trying to set the trend only it’s not wholly practical. It’s not even partially practical, come to think of it.
It’s one of the many things I’ve started to think about. Half of me (ok, way more than half) is gagging to get out of here, but there is a part of me that wonders what it’ll be like not to walk through the doors of the office that I’ve walked through for the last almost-13 years. I have a fear of talking like a baby. I listen to women that say they go to work for a break – and they only have one child!
I keep thinking of the end of this pregnancy (which I am now halfway through, again all going to plan) as the end of my encumberment, when in reality, it’s the start of it. I dream of getting back in the ring, but realistically that isn’t going to happen for quite some time. I think about how lovely it’s going to be when I can spend the summer sitting out on the deck with my perfectly behaved babies dozing in their little chair things. I’ll express milk and drink cocktails. I’ll do housewife stuff and go for coffee and it’ll be like in the movies.
But I know that’s not how it’ll be. This is just the start of the rest of my life.
The difference is that now that life isn’t just mine.