Week One

So today was the final day of my first week back in a full-time job. What a switch from my daily reality these past four years!

As I was explaining to my teens today, I realize now I had become depressed by the all of the silence and lack of human contact in my days working for myself.

The freedom was nice. But I really missed being involved with other people on a project that means something.

Public broadcasting means something. Here in the Bay Area, it means a lot. Suddenly I am back in the middle of helping it thrive.

I like that.

One of my ex's told me that I was a workaholic. I never considered myself one, if only because so much of the time, whether at work or not, my mind is on my family.

I think and worry about my kids, and now, my grandkids. I am ready, at the drop of a hint, to leave my job and go to them should they need me. I have always had the tendency to actually forget about what matters at the office once I leave there, and return to the world where my kids and their issues predominate.

In other words, I seldom think about the office except when I am there.

Tonight, my youngest and her friend were home waiting for me when I arrived. They wanted to bake a cake. I went out and about the neighborhood to three stores until I found the vanilla cake mix and chocolate frosting mix they required.

Though I was tired from work, that gave me pleasure. They baked the cake, which lended my small apartment an aromatic benefit.

Then I picked up my sons.

The kids have all been enjoying some TV documentaries about sharks tonight. I cooked them spaghetti and meatballs.

On Monday I will go back to work. I am in a mid-management position, with certain responsibilities and also many limits. But I intend to have make positive impacts in this job. That is always my goal.

So am I a workaholic? Maybe. I enjoy work. I enjoy people. I enjoy story-telling. Now I have a job where I can indulge all of these passions.

That should turn out to be a good thing, I think.

And I hope.

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