Friday Mornings

To be honest, five weeks ago I was near-terrified of taking the job I now have. The people I met there were smart, kind, funny, and relaxed, so it was clearly an insecurity thing on my part. Somehow I’d been offered a seat at the cool kids lunch table, and I couldn’t imagine really belonging. Maybe I was letting my writing world interfere with my real world. Probably I was just overwhelmed with another new beginning. Adjusting isn’t my strong suit, though I seem thrive on big changes like getting married and pregnant in the same month, moving to a new state every five years, earning degrees I realize I’m not going to use, and trudging my way through entry-level jobs trying to see where I fit. But what else can you really do besides fling yourself at life and be flung? Being careful just seems dumb to me. If I were careful, I wouldn’t have flung myself at my new job and I would have missed out. The work is fun. The company is energetic. And as said, the people are good people.

One of the best surprises is having Fridays off. I work like a mad cat during the week, sitting all day with–and even eating at my desk with–my BFF, Google. The relationship is pushy and frustrating. I try to seduce her, and she sends me to go sleep on the couch. It’s the best way I can describe my job without boring you. So when Fridays arrive, there’s a sense of relief.

There’s also my kids smiling at me in the morning because it’s our day to walk to the bus stop together. You know how you have those kind of snapshot memories of happiness? Like when your best friend gets married or your big sister goes off to college? Or maybe even something smaller like laughing hysterically over a hallmark card with your mom or realizing your crush is crushing back? Well, having those kinds of moments with your kids may be the best thing there is in life. The first time I watched Eleanor on the carousel, we were on Pier 39. She was around 2 years old. Josh stood with her as the horsie bobbed up and down circled past again and again. He pointed to me and she waved awkwardly, trying to spot me. She passed by a couple of times, absently waving. When she finally caught my eye and smiled, I cried like she’d just gotten married. I still can’t define why the moment moved me. But the happiness felt pure. It was like the first time we’d ever seen each other. I get that way with Magnolia as she gets on the bus on Friday mornings, plops into her seat and waves goodbye to me as the bus pulls forward. It’s not that she loves school or I love seeing her leave, but there’s something altogether filled with love in that moment.

Happy Friday to you all.