A Solid 8

Maybe it's age but this new job is wiping me out! Getting ready is fine, and tucking the house in before I leave is ok, even when dinner needs some prep work, and the whole commute thing is more of a counting-my-blessings thing than anything else. I head into the worst traffic in the area -- and just before it comes to a screeching halt, there is my exit. I feel kind of bad for the sea of red taillights, knowing I've got a leisurely route that will deposit me, literally, on the office doorstep. 

I clock in at 9, grab a sweet little cup of celestial seasonings cinnamon tea, and my hard drive begins to hum. I turn on the computer, too. It's exhilirating for the constant barrage of new things to learn, especially when it is important to do things well even if you are in the 50 middlin's.

I sunk into insomnia last year, which emerged late in the summer when the days were really long and sunny and hot. Randy is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kindaguy and the evening would creep into night -- midnight, one, two -- before my body would finally give it up. Hot camomile tea, a little snack, warm milk, exercise, Melatonin, and even half a Tylenol PM -- in various combinations -- eventually worked. An average night was about 6 hours.

I had talked myself into the compelling argument that sleeplessness was part of ze change. God knows I've been enjoying my 'personal summers' for quite some time. But after this little career repurposing expedition, the truth is that ... 

I'm busy again, darn it! That's all it was (with noted contributions from worry wort). An active brain challenged by intense concentration is all it took. By 17:00 hours, you can bet it's a mad dash to the car and into a companionable jammy-clad evening at home.

I like the faces I am getting to know. I like knowing where things are and being able to measure the ways I can help. I like how they are teaching me, patiently, thoroughly, appreciatively. And I especially like the idea of being around people whose work it is to talk about life and death and the importance of dignity and courage that happens inbetween.
 
And on a personal note, the most unexpectedly great part of the first two weeks has been catching myself thinking about bed at 6 in the evening, and being tired enough to actually consider it. Welcome back, Solid 8.