Day 4 Prompt

<<People always say that it hurts at night and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.

But sometimes it’s 9am on a Tuesday morning and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know what to do with your hands.

― On Missing Them, Rosie Scanlan

Write from any line in the above piece, or let your mind take you into a scent-memory, as Rosie Scanlan has done here.

You can also start today's writing with one of the following:

it’s 9am on a tuesday morning, and I'm standing...

I don't know what to do with my hands...>>

It's 9 am on a Wednesday morning. My first morning back to work since Mom's funeral. When I pull open the door to the vestibule the familiar scent of new carpeting hits me and I sigh. Or take a deep breath. I can never tell which is which anymore. They all feel like sighs. It's one floor to my office. My right hand slides up the wooden railing and my stomach turns as I wonder whether I remember the code for the door. I did, and that surprised me because in the past I had it written in notes on my phone in case I forgot it. I was amazed that such a trivial detail could remain in my mind while everything else seemed wiped out by what happened the past six months.

It's like a re-entry. I had been on edge the day prior, knowing I was to return and just not sure I wanted or could face the crazy stressful atmosphere. I'm a paralegal with a small law firm which does family law. Every day we are inundated with people's issues/problems/dramas and we are paid to fix things and right people's worlds - many times because of their own stupidity or lack of compassion or common sense.  But we can never say that.  I wasn't sure how that energy was going to blend with my new, needing mellowness and peace energy.

It's been a week and a half now that I've been back. It's exhausting, but I've managed to avoid getting crazy thus far. It won't last, it's just the nature of the beast, but it's also one reason I love my job -- it's different day by day.

Some days I have been able to enjoy my work again, enjoy my coworkers and my boss. We have a great environment. Other days like today I just wanted to say fuck it all and walk out. My husband and I have plenty of college bills to pay with another daughter in high school with bills to follow. Like most families, the double income is important. So I work. I plod sometimes. But I am proud of myself that I get up and move each day even though I don't want to. I work five minutes from home, have to be in at 9. On my more difficult mornings I just want to lie in bed and stretch it to getting up at 8:20 (having showered the night before) and throw myself together and make it to work on time. When I texted my boss "are you ready for me tomorrow?" First he responded "who is this" then said "yup. See you tomorrow". I said "ok. See you promptly at 9:03!"  So I'm a last minute kinda gal. 

Now the rushing seems stressful to me. I don't take it in stride and it stresses me out. Note to self: I need to do something about that. I struggle to find meaning in these prompts but perhaps this is the meaning for me - talk about things until an "ah-ha" moment occurs. Better bedtime routine would lead to better mornings and less stress for me.  Derp.