I came into work yesterday morning and was greeted by my One-A-Day calendar, which was left on June 21. My At-A-Glance calendars on my wall still say March, April, May, June. My mailbox was overflowing (not email box, but actual mail mailbox). I’m breaking in my new polo shirts and delightfully wearing my pre-pregnancy work pants, and slip-on brown shoes (which are, in fact, pretty snug). Yesterday, I spent nearly half the day catching up with everyone on my floor and re-telling my birth story over and over again, which may have been more exhausting than the initial 36 hours of labor.
After 10 weeks of almost complete social isolation, I feel like a NASA astronaut touching down on Earth. I don’t think socializing with mothers, in-laws, and less than a handful of friends really prepared me to be thrown into the workforce, but I imagine if we kept everyone away, it would be worse. Maybe. We’re all getting into a new routine of getting up, showering, feeding the dog, washing bottles, washing/feeding/clothing RR, packing lunches, packing school supplies, and getting everyone to work/school relatively on time. Sometimes I feel like I’ve accomplished so much by the time I get to my office, sit down, and turn on my computer, only to then be smacked in the face by the task of communicating with people. A lot of people. At a rapid and detail-oriented pace. For the next eight hours. Blink blink.
There are little things, though, that help. Football talk with the guy in the office next door. Lunch and coffee dates with my wife. Seeing what looks like myself in the bathroom mirror. Oh, and this picture on my desk. That definitely helps.