Sleep Commute Work

So I've entered this life of sleep commute work commute sleep commute work etc etc. Only I've been much better at breaking the after work commute with a bit of play. Then the work started to become frustrating and stifling (after just 6 weeks).

Something about them not knowing me and how I work, and what I'm capable of against me not knowing how to work them (long time local authority servants, retirement closing in). Sometimes it difficult to be a new girl.

Then my frustrations were such that I started gathering a list of issues to take to my boss. All valid. All much talked about to other people. (You become that kind of person with one topic of conversation - the BIG winge. Like when someone is planning to break up with their boyfriend - you have to gather as much evidence about it being the right thing to do as possible. Only people weren't helping, they were just adding fuel to the confusion.)

Then a job came up at my old work place. A good job. So I applied. And got called for an interview.

Between finding out about the interview and having the interview I had the meeting with my boss. There came no clarity from this meeting. But I stood on the side of London Road, looking at the row of old houses and thinking about the new neighbourhood I work in, the new organisations, the possibilities, the places I see, the distance I travel.

Next day at the interview I felt like it went ok but that I was a babbling stream of consciousness rather than cool and level headed. Sort of came out hoping the decision would be made for me. It wasn't. They offered me the job with a deadline of 12 noon the following day for an answer.

I hummed. I haa'd. Swang this way then that. Boyfiend and I went to the movies to take my mind off it. Slept on it this way. Turned over, slept on it that way.

Woke up. Definitely going to turn it down. 5 minutes later, no should definitely take it. Concerned at how the new organisation would feel with me going so soon. Huge feeling of guilt, leaving them in the lurch (important upcoming deadlines). Moving would lead to a more positive and sorted environment. Staying would give me the opportunity to see how to make change happen in difficult circumstances. Moving would mean I would have an uncomfortable notice period to work out. Staying would mean I'd have to deal with an unclear vision and defining a new role. Moving would mean going back to dealing with all the people I knew, loved and found difficult in a better-the-devil-you-know kind of way. Staying would mean... Moving would mean... I felt sick. Sicker and sicker as the day went on. 12 past. 12.30 past. Text from my old boss curious about a decision. 1 past. 1.30. I called. I was going to move. The voice said hello, I said I'm staying then I hummed and haa'd. But the minute I made the decision the sickness subsided.

Sometimes a decision is all encompassing. You see good and bad in both sides. Nothing makes it easy to figure out. There are no right answers. Gut instinct isn't working. Sometimes its better not to put yourself in that position in the first place. I'm exhausted but I don't feel sick. Which is good.