I'm officially unemployed!

It was a bittersweet day yesterday as I faced the reality of leaving work and all the people I've come to know and like. As is my usual trick, I spent the entire day second-guessing my decision, trying to work out if I really had done the right thing. Just as I would start thinking that working there wasn't that bad, the micro-managing cow would stick her spoke in again, sending me back to counting down the minutes 'til I was out of there.

During the course of the day, many people came to find me and tell me I wasn't allowed to leave because they didn't know what they would do without me there to help them. After receiving the response of "I'm only one person and I'm not irreplaceable", they would then proceed to tell me how I was the only person who would help everytime they asked, without ripping their heads off. I thought I had done my fair share of ranting and raving at work but they obviously weren't taking me seriously .. lol! I also received phone calls from people at other stores that I had worked with during my time there, wishing me all the best and lamenting the fact that they weren't going with me.

I'm usually very calm and controlled at work, so I think I shocked a few people yesterday by crying when reading all the lovely things they wrote in my cards. They then took great delight in telling me that they ran out of room in the first card, so for the first time ever, they had to buy a second card and they had to queue up to be able to write in it. Made me feel guilty all over again for leaving but I think I'm at peace with that decision .. for the next five minutes at least! Seriously though, it was a great boost to my self-esteem to be told over and over again how much I would be missed and to be thanked for being a wonderful person.

The thing that surprised me the most about the whole day was seeing a couple of the male managers with tears in their eyes at my farewell afternoon tea. One of them said he was hoping I'd never leave because he needed me there to make it easier to come to work everyday. (Probably because I used to do a lot of his paperwork for him!) He has also offered me a job working with/for him whenever I want to go back to work. The other manager has also offered me a job whenever I'm ready, as have the managers of two other stores.

All in all, even though I'm sad to leave, I think it is the best thing for me right now. I just need some time to sort myself and the family out, to do some of things that I used to enjoy and decide what I want to do from here on out.

Farewell Big W .. hello new beginnings!

After much soul-searching ...

and changing my mind about 1000 times, I handed in my resignation today. I finish on Friday at 3:15pm and I'm not going back.

There are some who think I'm only quitting because Peter is coming into a bit of money due to his Dad's death but they can kiss my shiny, white, cellulite-filled backside! This has been a while coming and I'm glad I've finally done it. As much as I enjoyed working with some of the people there, the constant fixing of everyone else's problems as well as dealing with my own issues, has really taken its toll. I'm exhausted and just want some time to be me.

Now if I could just find out who me actually is, I'd be laughing!

Never before has the name of this blog been so appropriate

'Life, one day at a time ..' is the perfect way to describe the last week. Another way would be: 'get up, survive, go back to bed'.

Overall, things are going as well as can be expected despite the few minor issues that always seem to appear when you least want them to. For example:

• The inexperienced funeral director who managed to put Peter's name in the deceased section of every.single.one of the 7 forms she had to fill out;
• Setting off Neil's house alarm, not being able to turn it off for a full ten minutes and then fielding calls from the security company who didn't believe he had passed away because they don't have any paperwork about it yet;
• Bradley getting sick (legitimately .. not just upset) and having to be picked up from school 20 minutes before the funeral director was due to arrive to discuss the arrangements;
• The dog puking on the floor inside the doorway right where I would have stepped if I hadn't been paying attention;
• Me slipping in a patch of water and landing very heavily on my butt leaving a bruise the size of my hand that's now turned lots of pretty colours;
• Having a rather insensitive boss who queried whether I really needed to take time off because it was my father-in-law that died and not my own parent.

We've managed to sort most of those thing out and are focused on getting through the viewing tomorrow and the funeral on Tuesday.

Thanks so much to everyone who has sent their condolences .. it's really comforting to know that others do care.

Please say a prayer for Peter

Peter and his Dad left yesterday on an across Australia train trip. He rang at 12:20am this morning to tell me his Dad had collapsed and died just before they got to Kalgoorlie.

He is now sitting in the police station filling out all the official paperwork required and is in a total state of shock. He has to wait for the death certificate to be issued before he can come back to Perth with his Dad's body.

Please say a prayer for Peter, Mark, their Mum (Anne) and the rest of us as we try to deal with all of this.

Oh so true ...

more animals

Tomorrow ..

• I'm going to be another year older. (meh)
• I still have to go to work even though it's my birthday. (insert violins here)
• I have an appointment at the school to discuss how to better support Alex at school. (cautiously optimistic)
• I'm skipping out of work early because of said school appointment. (Yay!!!)
• I'm hoping to catch up with Clare (my 'baby' sister) and Mum for a quick lunch before I head to the appointment. (Yay and yum!)
• I have to buy a birthday present for my sister-in-law Bec, because it's her birthday today. (beating self about head for being so slack and not getting organised sooner!)
• I will try to talk the children into making me a birthday cake. (Mmmm, maybe not such a good idea because I will probably end up cleaning chocolate cake batter off the ceiling .. again!)
• I will just enjoy the day.

(Just in case you hadn't noticed .. there are a lot of 'I' statements up there because tomorrow is all about me!!!)

And the countdown has started ..

At the moment I'm writing this (6:04pm), there are 14 hours and 26 minutes before the children go back to school.

They have been on holidays for 8 weeks and 4 days.

But who's counting you ask?

Me, that's who!

I've been counting since Christmas!

Now I am one of those mothers who has a horrible tendency to leave things until the very last moment. Procrastination is my middle name. (Well, it was going to be but I haven't got around to changing it yet!) I'm usually the one who has to stop by the shops on the way to school to buy the very-important-must-have-for-the-first-day item and while we're there, we may as well get something for lunches because I forgot they need to be fed while at school.

I was determined to not be 'that mother' this year and I was doing so well. All the stationery, books and other assorted necessary sundry items had been bought and, shock horror, labelled with the correct child's name. No algebra or trigonometry books for Bradley this year!

Their school bags were clean and filled with all the things they require as well as having clean, dry and non-stinky lunchboxes ready in the kitchen for their lovingly prepared lunches to be placed into. (A girl can have dreams!)

I had even managed to drag all the uniforms out of the deep, dark recesses of the wardrobes, where they had been shoved in a fit of childish delight (mine, not theirs!) back at the beginning of December last year. I made the children try them on two weeks ago and once satisfied that they all still fit, I washed them and ironed them and hung them up neatly so there would be none of those lovely wails of "I can't find a shirt" or "my shorts are still in the wash" two minutes before we were due to walk out the door.

So you can imagine my angst when Alex informed me after trying his shorts on again today, "just to check", that they don't fit. Believing mother that I am, I immediately demanded he show me and sure enough, they really don't fit. And not just 'they're a bit uncomfortable' .. oh no! Not a snowball's chance in hell of getting them to do up so I can't even make him wear them to school until I get to the uniform shop. (Well, I could, but he has enough issues with being seen as 'different' as it is without me adding to them).

So now, I get to go to the uniform shop in the morning, wait in line with about 100 other frustrated parents in an non-airconditioned room, with three very frazzled and hot volunteers copping flak for things that aren't their fault, hoping to high heaven that they haven't sold out of the one size I need (which is usually the case), forking over an arm and half a leg to pay for them and all so I can give my 13-year-old-son the correct shorts to wear to school.

Oh, and then go to work for the day to deal with the remnants of an Amazonian rainforest that has taken up residence on my desk in the form of a huge pile of paper to be filed properly, for no-one to ever look at it again. Then come home and turn into the Homework Police.

Aren't I a good Mum?

(save the laughter until I've left the room will you?)