Going Back to Work (3)
I went back to work this week.
The first week went by, embarrassingly uneventful, compared to the angst I felt until the moment I arrived at my office. The night before the first day, I dreamt that I was Colin Farrell (don’t ask how I knew, it’s a dream), a secret agent, and was locked in a room with my partner, an older guy. The room started to fill with water, until finally there was only a pocket of air left, just enough for our noses to take in quick sniffs of air. Then I kicked the door open, the water gushed out. Unfortunately, my partner died, but I survived. The dream was so vivid! I woke up to get ready, had my breakfast, then threw up.
The babysitter came on time, my daughter cried but not for long (30 minutes). And I drove to campus, on the first day of classes.
All day, I had to run around like a mad woman, not a moment to idle away. In other words, business as usual, as I remember ten months ago. And I felt at home.