Back to work

I went back to work today. I’m only working one day a week for a little while. But it’s good.

The Vol-in-Law called me at about 11am. When I got off the phone, my co-workers wanted to know if the baby was doing alright, if the ViL was doing alright.

“Oh no, everything’s fine” I said. “He was just in the cemetery and told me there was a floral tribute of leaping dolphins that I’d probably want to photograph tomorrow.”

Old co-workers were not surprised. New ones – well, they thought that was a little weird.

Seventy-six trombones

If you’re the hoping, praying, rub on a brass monkey, knock on wood, send good vibes type person please hope for me that a daycare place at my preferred provider opens soon.

I’m ready to go back to work. I’ve been at home long enough.

I’m hoping to go back part time which actually shouldn’t be a problem, but I need to a place to stick Buddy. We went by the place the other day and said “Puuhlease, next available slot please.” We’re waiting to find out if someone else is declining a place. They’re vacillating, apparently.

-0-

Returning to work will obviously be a little bit bitter-sweet. Probably more on the bitter than the sweet. I’ve been unhappy with my job for a while. It’s not the work (well, a little bit) or the people (hmmmm) or my short attention span (this is the longest I’ve ever held a job – though I’ve worked in this field for a long time). It’s mostly the h.ot.des.king. You see I have an office job, one that requires a small amount of travel (like maybe once every six weeks or so and can be a lot less) and that does require meeting with folks off premises on average once a week, but mostly I’m IN. But without a desk to call my own. Top management, who all have desks of their own, were sold a pig in a poke by some fancy-dan architects.

What, you don’t have h.ot.des.king? Why, how can you even call yourselves a _______ business. Everyone has h.ot.des.king these days, prevents the corruption of the workforce, you know.

I could go on and on and on and on about the stupidity of all this, but I really don’t want to give away too many details on a blog that I have pretty much tried to keep work-blogging free.

When I was pregnant, I insisted that they keep a desk reserved for me on health and safety grounds. Which was mostly rubbish, there was kind a tenuous argument because I use a footrest and it was uncomfortable to get down on the ground and move that around. Really I needed the desk reserved because I’m a human and therefore a creature of habit. But pleading the belly worked. But now that I’m not pregnant any more it’ll be back to rats in a sack when it comes to finding a place to plug in my laptop and park my behind.

But I have to go back for at least three months or else I have to pay back maternity leave. (Yikes). But I also resolve to be looking for something new, too. Something maybe with a desk.

Holding down the fort

I got my first email from a work colleague in a while.

How’s the world of work?

Dunno.

What’s the latest project?

Dunno.

What’s the future of xxxxxx in xxxxxxxxx?

Dunno.

My colleague sent me a link to this. A cat cam site.

It’s really cool. She’s thinking of getting one.

I can’t decide if they really need me or if I’m really not missing much.

Maybe I should get a cat cam.

t-24: last day

Today was my last day in the office. My due date is three weeks away and I am really feeling the effects of gravity now. Lumbering in to the office, changing trains, fighting for a seat, eyeing up young men for their potential to commit mass terror on the Underground – these are all things I’m not going to miss.

Things I will miss: my actual work. I like it. I have an interesting job. But I’m not quitting work cold turkey. I’m weaning myself off work. I’m not officially on maternity leave, but instead have started off with a week’s worth of vacation days. So – I’ve arranged to do a little bit of work next week – probably about 2 days over the 5, just to wind down.

25 24 days til baby Cletus

Ides

Hey kids, it’s the Ides of March. Beware the Ides of March. Somebody might try to stab you if you speak in the Senate. I remember that from Sophomore English. And even though I’ve never spoken in the Senate, it might be best to turn down all public speaking engagements on the Ides of March.

In fact, I did turn down a public speaking engagement today! I wasn’t due to speak today, but next week, but today I backed out. It’s a 20 minute slot on my very dull specialty subject. When I agreed to talk they’d given me more time – but my slot got squeezed because they’d secured more speakers. Usually, I don’t get out of bed for less than 45 minutes to bore entertain the masses. It takes me the first 15 minutes to woo the crowd with lame anecdotes, which would have only left 5 minutes for actual content. I told the organisers I wasn’t feeling well enough to travel.

I actually feel ok today, but it’s probably true – my feet are a bit swollen, and I’m moving a little slow. This pregnancy thing is kinda catching up with me. But I might have tried to go if I’d had a 45 minute slot.

Did you know that Julius Caesar is buried in the Roman Forum – which wasn’t a normal place for Romans to dispose of bodies? Yep. And did you know that people still leave flowers on his grave. It’s a tradition. I saw it myself when me and VolBro visited Rome.

What a waste of flowers.

No sickie

The teaser boards for tonight’s London Evening Standard said.

Biggest sick day ever

Apparently, thousands skipped the return to work today. I went to work, but I did not like it.

When I woke up a little congested this morning, I did contemplate pulling the the old sickie. But there just wasn’t enough snot to drown out the old protestant work ethic. And anyway, it all cleared up by nine.

Sorry for any imagery that may have produced.