After many months of being a domestic goddess I’m off to work again. Part of me is saying, “Woohoo” while the other part is asking, “What was I thinking?”
The toughest obstacle thus far this morning was dragging my feeble body out of bed when the 6 a.m. alarm sounded. I’d been wide awake since 4:30 either from anticipation or dread; I’m not certain.
Obstacle number two was getting dressed in something other than denim capris, a tshirt, and flip flops. I almost cried when I placed my feet in regular shoes. I’m so sorry, feet!
And instead of my normal brunch I had to eat breakfast! To ease the strain of eating something before 9 a.m. I stopped at Cinnabon and scarfed down a serving of Cinna minis with icing. My feet might hate me, but my tummy is so pleased.
Now, having arrived a full thirty minutes early for my assignment, I’m sitting in the car in front of a school in Tallahassee listening to Howard Stern and scanning the cars in the parking lot for my coworkers, none of whom I’ve met. Surely they’ll be easy to spot. We all have identical green suitcases packed with testing materials.
Wish me luck, friends. If you don’t hear from me again you’ll know I truly was allergic to work and couldn’t afford an epi pen.