Yesterday was six weeks post-op. I start 'sort of' walking next week. My mom and stepdad were here at the beginning, and she's back again. My dad came in between, and my best friend, and two college friends. I stayed at a friends place across town after that, and then Mom came back. My best friend from childhood comes next weekend, thank god, and gives me a parenting break...then Dad comes to take me back to Kentucky for a week. I absolutely can't wait to get my hands on the little kiddos.
The last 10 weeks have been absolutely surreal. The last 3 have seen me gainfully employed from the couch and they are working me to death. This is going to be my eighty hour a week job. This is going to be my introduction to senior management. I'M senior management. Me! Holy shit!
One thing I'm really glad about is that I don't have anyone reporting to me. I'm barely keeping my head above water, and I don't want to have to manage employees...I'm 30. I'm not ready. I'm barely ready to be doing what I'm doing.
Mom is still here, and is cooking and going on walks and watching me work with a look on her face that says she doesn't like how hard I'm pushing myself. It's been really strange being "DC, Professional Me" with Mom sitting on the couch with me, thumbing through the newspaper. Talk about worlds colliding.
I keep trying to think of chilling metaphors and flowery words to describe all of this as Mom helps me in the shower, helps me out of the shower, wraps and re-wraps my walking boot. Hands me a grilled cheese sandwich with a glass of milk, while I pretend not to be as old as I am -- while I'm on the phone with clients, pretending that I'm not as young as I am. I don't know how to be 30. Just 30. I've forgotten how to live this little life I've set up for myself here -- forgotten how it will be without my Kentucky connections here with me.
Did I really put on suits everyday? Did I really actually start a new job? Will this paycheck bounce?
This is so surreal. All of it.