I have less than two months left at work. 7 Mondays. Time has turned into a weird dichotomy. The weeks (and the weekends) seem to be flying by incredibly fast. I blink on Friday afternoon and it’s Sunday night. I drag myself out of bed on Monday morning and it’s already Wednesday.
But at the same time it’s taking forever.
A couple of weeks ago I just couldn’t wait to get out of here. I was looking forward to a month of enjoying my own time before I forget how that feels. Then we drew up a budget and it became apparent that I really need to work as long as I possibly can! The other thing that has started to happen is that when I pull into the carpark each morning I think about the fact that I’ve pulled into that same carpark 5 days a week for the last 12 and a half years. This place has become such a part of my life that I can’t imagine life without it. But I still can’t wait…
Other people have started to think about it too. My boss was struck by the realisation last Friday that when I leave there will be no women in our team. I’ve been here as long as he has – he has no experience of working here without me. I suppose work might become quite peaceful for him!
But the biggest thing for me now is boredom. My plan to work up until 32 weeks has been met with some scepticism by people with multiple pregnancy experience. A girl in my antenatal class was forced to leave work at 21 weeks when she went into pre-term labour. Blood pressure and exhaustion are the primary reasons for leaving early – and my BP hasn’t been the best from day one. So due to the fact that I could have to pack up and leave at any time, there is no point in starting any new and exciting projects. I’m just biding my time and that’s boring.
This change has been a long time coming and now I just want it to hurry up.