I’ve been working at the new day job for a little over six weeks and I’m loving it, plus they seem to be loving me. The pay is good and I’m working from home. Probably will be too until at least the end of July and maybe longer.
But with doing a bunch of other, littler jobs before that, although the pay was lousy, I had tons of time to write.
Then there’s the insomnia. I go to sleep okay, but wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I’m able to roll over and eventually go back to sleep, but other nights, I’m up for a couple of hours.
Last night, I forced myself to stay in bed, but it seemed like it took forever to doze off again. I finally was in the space to really sleep when it was time to get up.
Fortunately, there’s this magic stuff called coffee, so for most of the day, I’m okay. I start to fade about mid-afternoon and sometimes it’s a struggle to keep focused until the end of my work day.
For the past two days, my granddaughter’s been over. It’s hard for a just turned five year old to understand that just because Grandpa’s home doesn’t mean he can play. I try to explain that her Mom and Dad have to work, and that the only difference for me is that I get to do it at home. She doesn’t always buy it.
She likes to sneak into my office when my wife isn’t looking. Sometimes, it’s just to give me a hug, but today, she “hid” in the corner as if my wife couldn’t find her.
We had lunch together and danced to her kiddie music, but then I had to get back to the office.
When I get off of work, I do have some time to hang out with her before her Mom comes to pick her up. She enjoys that but then it’s over.
After dinner, I always imagine I’ll get some writing done. Sure, I have the time, but I’m beat. Too late for more coffee, but my head feels like it’s stuffed with boiled inner tubes and rusty steel wool.
About the best I can manage is scanning social media, which is always a mistake because it’s always a major drag.
Then eight o’clock or so rolls around and I pack it in. Yes, that’s early, but I try to be up by 4 or 5 so I can be “at work” before 7. Glad my commute is about 2 seconds and I only have to shave if I have a video conference.
I hope my body and brain make the adjustment soon. When the day is young, I long to write, but can’t because I’m working. By the end of the day, my power cells are drained.