My mantra lately at work has been ’11 more weeks, just 11 more weeks’. I’m looking forward until Monday when that number changes to 10! Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and am actually sad about leaving it for an entire year. I want to spend the full year off with the baby, but a part of me would like to just stay in the work loop too. I’ve offered to help from home and work on spreadsheets at month end and maybe go in every few weeks for a few hours. Unfortunately, my bosses keep telling me that parenthood is much tougher then I seem to think it will be and keep dismissing my suggestions.
But, there are days when my back is achey, I’m exhausted and people around me are just generally ticking me off. It takes a lot to push me over the edge at work, but I find with each week that passes my fuse gets shorter. This afternoon I had a conversation with a male friend about this subject. A male friend that I may or may not have recently blown up on. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m just losing my fuse with everything and getting angry and frusterated at the smallest things lately!
Friend: No F’ing Kidding!!!