Out with the jolly
So after a week's hiatus of ingesting as much Iowa caucus as humanly possible (check emaw for better double entendres than my own), down comes the holiday deco.
The house has lost its fa-la-la and returned to the less lively wardrobe it wears for most of the year. My living room is becoming one of those living rooms where toys seem to be crammed in every corner and stuffed animals seem to propagate from beneath sofa cushions. Not that I mind that perception, but either psychosomatically or for true, I feel a repetitive stress injury taking hold in the small of my back from a constant cycle of tidying.
This week I found I have another co-worker moving to Perceptive Software and I'm intensely jealous and nervous that I'm missing some opportunity to make a livable wage (and enjoy the kind of cush corporate culture I've always heard rumor of -- they have a slide from the second floor to the first! http://www.imagenow.com/careers ). I could throw my resume in the ring, but damn, I did this switch jobs-mid-pregnancy deal before and the shit is stressful. I'm someone who irrationally worries about losing my job constantly anyway during the best of times, but in those initial months post-baby when doc appts and sicknesses abound, it's enough to put me in an early grave with worrying about not cutting the mustard. Life is short. I'm willing to see how much stress being cash poor is this time around. Couldn't be any worse, right?
Btw, 'cut the mustard' is a great phrase that I think we should agree to resuscitate, ok? What do you say? Let's do it.