Slowly does it

There is irony in the fact that this is the first time I have touched my blog in an age, when this is also the first week I have worked three days.

I have a new job, in a brand new company, and yes, it is part-time.  I feel the stars have come into alignment: part-time working in a medium that genuinely fascinates me. Obviously early days, and following my five month baptism of NHS fire, I refuse to jinx the opportunity, but as M always says (no idea why): “Safari so goodie”.

So, what did I do with my first break from the norm, my first venture into a world where two days stretch ahead of me, ready to be crammed with kid time, writing, and a pinch of fun?

The first day was perfectly fit for purpose.  Dropping kids at school; walking the dog while putting the world to rights; deli lunch with a great friend just gone on mat leave; wrapping 19 individual presents for the school Secrets Room; picking up both kids with the dog (confused she was); homework; and tea together.  Frankly, tick.  It was looking like three days of genuine job-related brainwork and two days of frivolity and capturing valuable kid time from that start.

Then yesterday.

I already knew a chunk would be spent on routine hospital tests; by routine I do not mean ongoing routine of days off, but in the sense of ‘routine check-up’.  But what was not factored into the whole shebang was, initially, L2’s 8.20 trip to the GP. While he was passed fit for school, I was unwashed, unprepared and generally un-.  The second unfactored deviation was the New Rule which prevents accompanying parties from actually accompanying the patient. So up to Dartford we drove, me equipped with ‘reading round the subject’ matter for work, only to find that rather than mopping M’s fevered brow (or more likely sniggering at his sedated ramblings, I’m a great support to the hospitalised, me), my options were ‘waiting room’ (uncomfortable chairs), ‘coffee shop’ (too easy access to too much caffeine) and ‘home’ (drive there, drive back, drive there, tree branch stuck in car workings feel driving on borrowed time).

I aimed for the latter, based on the theory that if the car branch disrupted the witchery workings of the car’s inside (no mechanical awareness lies at this door) it would not help were I completely wired nor feeling a bit ‘spinal’.

The driving marathon was topped off by collecting L2 from a party and L1 from a choir rehearsal. By this point I had never been happier to see a pre-prepped Asda pizza in my life.

But the ironic upshot of this unplanned Grand Prix was that I finished my first three-day week feeling more knackered than had I stared at a screen for the extra 18 hours.

So next week time to try harder – let’s see how I do.