That was scary

I had a mildly terrifying experience this week.  I arrived home from work Monday to discover three telephone messages that were NOT from telemarketers.  That wasn't the scary part but it wasn't a bright spot either.  One message was from a nurse at the clinic where I recently had my annual screening mammogram.  Two were from the hospital telling me I needed to schedule a follow up diagnostic mammogram.

Bottom line, end of the story.  I'm fine it was just a glitch in the film.

Back to the terror.  I scheduled the appointment for Thursday.  And I spent four days wondering if, just when we are beginning to relax about cancer around here, it was my turn.  I am not one of those people who could just wait and see what happens for four days.  In my mind, I have to go through all the possible terrible outcomes all the way to the bitter finish of the story.  You know, the bitter finish in which I was "gone" and PC was left to finish raising our kids alone.  Its just how my mind works.  There is a technical term for it but it wasn't a psych major and I would have to look it up on Google.  My good friend Lawyer Mama was a psych major and she knows the term.  We've discussed it.

Beyond the terror.  Its not the fourth Thursday in November but I am very thankful for many things in my life that I don't always take the time to appreciate.  Here's a partial list:

• PC, the good and the bad, I would only have a shell of a life, would only be a shell of a person, without him.  
• The sweet snuggly body of our nearly five year old Pumpkin nearly pushing me off the edge of the bed nearly every night and the great little person who he is
• My grown sons (who, they read this, will be very irritated at being combined instead of each getting their own sentence); they drive me crazy but I love them just as much as I did when they were sweet and snuggly
• My extended family on the other edge of the continent, I don't talk to them much, I see them even less, but I'm glad they're there when the opportunity arises
• PC's extended family.  After nearly 20 years they're my family too. 
• The time and place I was born (you may place your right hand over your heart ready begin, because really, I'm so lucky)
• My friends, I suck at keeping in touch but that doesn't mean I don't fully appreciate the ability to pick up the phone after days or weeks or months and pick up just where we left off the last conversation

I appreciate lots of things too (my iPhone, my fabulous fabric stash, televisions, laptops, etc.) but I could manage without them.  That seems so obvious when you look at it from this perspective but I'm glad I sat in the mammography suite, waiting for the radiologist to read my films, and thought about it.  Now if I can only remember it every day I'll probably be a lot more cheerful.

What do you do?

After nearly 13 months of unemployment I am, once again, working full time.  Outside the home.  You know, a regular person with a job.  Me again.  After the first few months of panic and nausea, when I realized we were okay financially and the stress was not likely to cause a divorce, I actually enjoyed being home this year.  Not enough to ever really relax into it.  After all, the job search was a constant, nagging, depressing, fruitless, presence.  In those 13 months I had exactly five first interviews, one second interview, finally one offer (after only a first interview).

I reinvented myself several times mentally over the year:

 I would offer myself up to non-profits, slave away administratively for a relatively low salary and help to save the [planet] [mistreated animals] [abused children] [battered women] [the DNC] insert the cause of the appropriate agency here.  I did not receive any responses to my spiffy resume and well crafted cover letters.

I would (finally) pass the Virginia Bar and rather than slave away putting more money into insurance companies' pockets (the unfortunate place where I've spent the bulk of my professional life) I would go work for a public entity and help to save the [abused children] [battered women] [poor and the meek] [people who can't afford a high priced defense lawyer] [the Commonwealth] [the Country].  I didn't take the Virginia bar and thus eliminated the prospect of passing it.

I would offer myself as an independent contractor to assist law firms getting ready for a trial (this doesn't actually happen very often, most cases settle in the civil litigation world, so there is an enormous amount of work to do to prepare when in does happen - I'm good at that work) and intermittently work 90 hours a week for relatively large sums of money, accompanied by enormous stress and anxiety and a complete relinquishment of all parental obligations and pleasures.  Didn't happen - just writing the words gives me a stomach ache and PC is gone all the time so I don't actually have 90 child free hours a week to offer.

I would start keeping the house really clean and cooking low cost healthy meals every night and put on makeup and clean clothes before PC got home from work and fetch his slippers after he walked in the door to show him how great it would be if we just agreed that I'd stay home forever.  Didn't even really try that one.  I'm so not June Cleaver.

And here I am.  An admin bitch (that's an affectionate term used by me and PC not by my employers) for a technology company.  Pay:  Okay.  Stress:  None.  Dress Code:  None (jeans and tennis shoes mostly).  Benefits:  Great.  Level of Contentment:  Pretty High.  Makeover in Future:  Nah.