I got off my centre this week, I was caught up in what was going on around me at work and forgot about keeping me real and focused. A lot of things happened, one of them was we found out that we are getting extended hours at work, so there is an extra hour and a half in my day spent at work and not fiddling around the house. This means an hour and a half less to cook, to read, to drink tea and look out the window relax as cars drive past importantly; an hour less to write.
I sat down and read some of my writing, some things that were really important to me, and felt myself shift back into my body. And I said if I’m determined to make this a summer when I really pull things together then I’m going to do this no matter what:
In order to get a promotion at work, I need to know how to use Excel. As a suggestion I was told to do up a budget on the spreadsheet and that would get me one step closer to understanding the program. As I was plotting out the numbers I realized I was spending more than what I was making. Which isn’t too bad right now, I have a little saved up as a cushion. When I was doing extended hours at work my spending wasn’t a problem, but recently the nest has gotten smaller because as an e-mailer we are scheduled less hours. This week we move to 91/2 hour days.
I had decided last week that I would work overtime when needed, and if I was having a decent day. It was something I was going to ease into. I was afraid to do it before. I was afraid that if I agreed to stay and do overtime I was just inviting an auto fail (big fat zero on a “report card”) or my call time would go through the roof or I would be there and realize I should be home writing… or something. Last week though something hit me. I realized as I hit all my expected targets for another month, that it wasn’t a fluke that I was doing what was expected. That maybe I am good at what I do. I know how to handle a call, I know how to deliver the message, get and give the information that I need and move on. As they ask for extended shifts, I’m confident about my job, already willing to do some hours and I’ve arranged my home time to use as many hours as possible, and will work a little harder and using those hours wisely.
So I have two choices. I can be angry because everything didn’t go exactly as I wanted it to go. Or I can release that anger and accept that everything fell into place at the right time. That I appreciate the hours as something I was considering and I appreciate that fact that I can handle it, even in the delicate balance that I’ve created. The next step is to move forward without bringing on the monsters that I’ve written about so often in my journal.