Nine O’Clock Irritableness


A week ago our life changed, and my work day right along with it.  The two lines on the pregnancy test quickly extinguished what had become a regular point of sanity recovery in my day.  And ever since then, I sit here between 9 and 930, realizing I’ve been at work for two hours already, and wondering how much longer this day is going to be.  Yes, the answer is obvious.  I will be here until 4pm.  But how LOOONG is that really going to be?

I can’t deny at all that I miss my smoke breaks.  I miss sitting under the bus-stop-like shelter, freezing my butt off, chatting with co-workers from the office and warehouse.  My smoke breaks were the most social part of my day.  Refilling my water bottle six times a day (no, I wasn’t taking six smoke breaks) doesn’t fill the social void.

As I type this I realized, as I have many times in the past week, that my smokeless irritableness causes me to chomp down on my chewing gum as I remember my mom doing many times when I was growing up.  Mom didn’t do it because she gave up smoking (she didn’t smoke).  She only seemed to chew gum when she was irritable.  And if my sister or I saw Mom chewing gum, we usually kept quiet and/or walked away.

Even more than the fact that I’m not smoking, I believe my irritableness is caused by sheer boredom.  I have a bachelor’s degree in Interior Architecture and I’m working as an Administrative Assistant.  Most of the work I do is financial reporting, a profession I never wanted to be part of.  I’m radically right brained.  I’m not built to be using Excel all day tracking cost savings and the implications of commodity cost increases.

9:46am.  Blah.

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