her able hands

I have that interview for the job with the big toy manufacturer today, and I’m in a bit of a panic. I must be in a massive panic to have fallen back to sleep this morning instead of getting up to write like I normally do. I dreamed about being back at Big Weekly News Magazine after an extended maternity leave, and everything about the building had changed. Elevators were like a small stadium seating area with lap locks like a roller coaster, open to the innards of the building like looking at a ball game, and the banks for certain floors were no longer marked properly. I couldn’t find my ID tag, and wandered around, riding up and down on these death traps of elevators, my stomach rushing into my throat.

Anxiety much?

I have no idea what to wear. I tried to pick out something new last night, but got discouraged by how short all of the trousers are, and by the fact that if I wear a skirt, I need new shoes, and by the fact that I’ve developed saddle bags at the top of my ridiculously long legs. So I said screw it and came home and I’m just going to have to squeeze into my black pants, wear a blouse that doesn’t tuck in and hangs long, find out which box has the black shoe polish in it so I can clean up the horrible scuffs on the shoes I’ve been wearing since 2001, and deal with the wardrobe malfunction properly if I get/take the job. I’m thinking a nice online visit to j. crew, thankyouverymuch. We love their 36″ inseam. Not so much their prices. Bleh.

Am I nuts thinking about taking a full-time job? Here I am, finally in a home situation that makes my heart sing, and I’m going to leave it every day for an 8 to 5? I’m thinking of putting Lila in daycare every day for that amount of time? Gawd. I must be nuts. But the salary–if it’s what I ask for–will cover the extra house payment, the daycare, and a little extra each month, taking a huge financial strain off of poor Chris’ heart. He’s so stressed out about money right now, he’s almost unrecognizable. I need to take the job if it’s offered to me just to ease the burden on him while we get the old house out from under us.

But, oh! My free time! When will I blog? When will I garden? When will I cook? How do you mothers who work full-time handle all the extra juggling that has to happen? Like orthodontist appointments for the teenager in the middle of the work morning? Or a toddler who isn’t quite potty trained? Or keeping the house running smoothly with regular meals, cleaning, laundry, yard work? Who plays with the kids and still has time to do anything for themselves? I’m afraid!

When I went to work full time before, Tyler was already 6, in school, and with his father on the days I worked. It was a 3 day (tho 40+ hrs) schedule. I felt like I still had some time to myself. I needed it.

The job itself will put me on track with corporate writing, and I know it will be a great immersion. It’s product copywriting (and proofreading) for the packaging on the worlds biggest, bestest, plastic toys. An adjunct to the position is tracking the packaging projects for the graphic design department. It’s in the creative arena where I belong, but no design involved, amen. I’m so not interested in doing design anymore. Words, I want words. I want to get paid to string words together.

So wish me luck today. I haven’t interviewed for anything in eight years. Please Maude let me not tell my potential future boss how flummoxed I am by the fact that my son suddenly smells exactly like his father, the man I divorced.

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