Ch-ch-ch-changes

It’s been weeks since I’ve written in this blog and I miss it so much. For seven months, I had my weekly ritual—yoga class, then breakfast and blogging. Whatever ideas had been percolating in my head throughout the week came to a bubble on Saturday morning, and poured out onto the page.

I’m mostly blogging on the Skirt! site now, which is fun, but I’m too busy to do much writing at all. The job I wanted is now the job I have—a clinical social work position in Newton. I’m very grateful to have a really good job in a really lousy economy. Lots of friends have been laid off and I know how tough it is. I’m counting my blessings. I’m also adjusting big-time. It’s exhausting.

For almost a year and a half, I followed my own natural biorhythms, such as they are at my age. My body likes to stay up late and get up late. Nothing better than Jon Stewart and David Letterman with a crossword chaser. Heaven. No more.

On the first day of my new job, I set my alarm for 5:45 a.m. Ouch! It was dark out. I had to be there at 8:00 a.m., ready to jump aboard a two-day intensive training. Whoa. Thank God for adrenaline! The brand-new team, a great group, pow-wowed straight through till 4:00, then reconvened for a corporate-style dinner at Legal Sea Foods (mmm, can’t complain about that). At least I wasn’t the only newbie. This was the first meeting among the new staff, the home team, and the client team. The rest of the week was similarly intense, in a good way, but my brain ceased to function yesterday so, no post-yoga blog for me. Sigh.

Now I’ll be one of those TGIF folks again. I’ve been there many times. I'm worried, what will happen to my writing? Will I be able to continue with my book? What about my essays—the ones partly written, the ones mostly written, the ones in my head? Am I being tested to see if I can go from 0 to 100 and retain my sanity? With my job, my other job, my chorus, my other chorus, my cat, my other cat, and everything else on my plate, it should be an interesting month.

But, like my clients say, “Keep it in the day. One day at a time.” Yeah. Sounds like a plan.