Working 9 To 5

Seriously. I'm not kidding. I'm working 9-5. Every day. All day. I don't know how this happened.

About 5 months ago, I decided I needed to get a J-O-B. I dragged my feet for the next 41/2 months. Nothing fit into the ideal job that I had dreamed up in my head. You know, that job that I could do in my pajamas. That job where I could choose my own hours, preferably late evening, when I seem to be at my peak. That job where I earn at least $19.63/hr. with the laptop on my lap, HGTV playing in the background, chilled Dr. Pepper at my side. It could happen!

Alas, my perfect job did not drop in my lap. Imagine that. One day I saw an ad for a receptionist for a medical office. They were asking for a receptionist who was willing to treat their patients like their best friend, to really make the patients comfortable. HELLO! Does that not just scream me?! Am I not the friendliest, most comfortable person you know? Don 't answer that. Well, at least I knew I could fake it pretty well.

Regardless of having no medical office experience, and a fairly spotty resume, I passed two interviews and was offered the job last Tuesday. I must say, it was definitely a Sally Field moment for me ("You like me! You really like me!") Unfortunately, they wanted me to begin work the next morning. Um, sure. So I had about 6 hours to rearrange our entire lives and clock in by morn. I had been driving a car full of little boys home every day after Kindergarten, along with my own son. I had to call the moms and let them know I couldn't get them anymore. And then I had to ask one of those moms to now pick Brody up every day until my sister could pick him up from her house. One of Brody's journal entries at school last week read like this: "On Munday I go to Jacks haws and play in then my ant cums and pics me up and I go ovr thr and I play then my sistr cums and pics me up."

Oh, holy guilt trip. Someone please reassure me that my kids will be fine, that they will not grow up to be sociopaths because their mother went back to work after being home for 17 years!

It's been a full week and we have survived. We have, dare I say, even thrived. The kids seem to really be kicking it into gear. I have a vacuumed floor, dishes loaded and rooms cleaned when I come home. Granted, we are still in the honeymoon phase, but they really seem to be wanting to do their part. I'm afraid Mom has been unwilling to "let" the kids help out as much as they should have over the last couple of years. I have this problem of wanting things done a certain (right) way, so I tend to just do it myself. Matt's been trying to convince me lately to stop folding the teenagers clothes. "No one folded my clothes past 12 years old!" But I can't help myself! I like laundry! I like to vacuum! I think I need a 12 step program. Instead, I got a job.

I'll keep you "posted" on life after the honeymoon. I'm sad that my blog will probably suffer because of this. I really, really like my blog. But the bottom line is, I like my job. I like the people I work with. I like the money. I just have to not think about the things I'll miss. Like Mom's day at kindergarten on Friday. The end of year dance festival at school. Watching my daughter get her braces off next Thursday. Waaaa! Waaaa!

This job is a blessing. This job is a sacrifice. It's a blessrifice. Dang, I'm good. Is it any wonder they hired me? Don 't answer that.