I’ve been a creature of habit for the past 8 years; deviation from the ritualistic nature of waking up and getting ready for work was the closest I came to utter worship. I went to work when I was happy, sad, sick, well, depressed, anxious, terrified and everything in between.
Now, I don’t have that anymore.
Yes it’s sort of silly to me that I feel this way. I know that I resigned for greener pastures and bigger academic dreams but I missed what I felt I knew. Also, I miss knowing that I’m amazing at something. I’m not magnificently skilled at any one, great thing but I am articulate, empathetic and a good problem solver so I excelled at Customer Service or at least I thought I did.
More than the institution, I miss the friends I made. I don’t have those in abundance and like at most places when someone leaves that usually spells the end of any friendships. It’s…humbling.
It’s been a little over two weeks and it hasn’t really sunk in yet. I haven’t broken my sleep patterns but I’ve been told that it will take upwards of a month or so to get accustomed to this new normal.
My Mom keeps asking me if I’m bored yet. She calls me and talks to me half amused and half amazed that I really did it. Workaholic runs in my family apparently.
Never thought I would say that I missed work but here we are…