Fronting up to a Collins Street office tomorrow at 8.30 a.m. is going to be hard. It's been two months, to the day, since I've been in an office, whether in person or remotely. This is a very good thing. I've been overseas. I needed to decompress. Any lingering angst from the last job has gone, bleached from my soul - not that there was much of that, but the overwhelming travel and the complexity of the last project left me exhausted. I feel close to normal now - being tired is part of middle age.
Then there's all the things that must be considered. What am I going to wear? What shoes should I put on my feet? After two and a half years of remote work and monthly Darwin Office Casual and Birkenstocks, are my clothes going to be okay? What do I need in my bag? My peripherals pencil case. Myki. Water bottle (and do I take the trusty Yeti or use another one?) Hairbrush. Lipstick. Tissues. Sunglasses /regular glasses/screen glasses.
Will the team like me? Will I like them? (Going by the people who interviewed me, I reckon that might be a yes.) What are the offices like? What will my laptop be like - will it be an old crusty, or something decent?) Will I need to travel between offices?
And all of this fell into my lap. A recruiter saw my CV after applying for another job, picked me out, put me forward and voila! Job. Of course, I'd been putting it out the universe for a few weeks, making calls, putting in applications, setting up coffee meetings. I did the work.
I'm incredibly grateful for the two months off. Grateful that I've got my energy back (though the allergies aren't appreciated and I wish they'd go away.) And sure, I didn't get as much as I wanted to done around the flat, but that's okay. I've made a start on it.
And Lucifer loves me again.
It's been good.
Here's hoping this next adventure is a good one. My gut feeling says it's going to be just what I need.
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