In terms of stressful life events I'm going to go ahead and throw out a 9 on the 1-10 scale these days. Can I decompress a minute? So in a nutshell, (Help! How did I get in this tiny nutshell?!), in the nutshell, the lazy, gradual merge back into the working world that I was planning on has taken a turn for the worse. But for good reason. The girl, Erin, who had previously taken over my work responsibilities post flying placenta is pregnant and I am awaiting her delivery to return to work part time. However, after a cleverly orchestrated maneuver with the bosses, we worked it so I could return a little early to "review" all the new goings on in our department so I would know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing there when I return.
After exactly 2 half-days of reviewing, Erin's baby decided he couldn't possibly miss this year's Tony awards and so Evan was born last Friday afternoon. Mama and babe are healthy and happy and loving life currently, whilst I shi# my pants because we have about 4 million things going on and I don't even know which button turns on the new printer in my office. Holy Xanax, Robin.
Remind me why I wanted so desperately to return to the working life of bees? At this point I would like to retract those statements and go back to wearing my pajamas all day and drinking 14 cups of coffee while watching my tivo'd episodes of Home Sweet Hollywood and Top Chef. Sorry about the confusion. No, I don't want to mastermind the entire department's study enrollment nor send out faculty emails about research updates or really even wear my hospital id. So leave me alone. Now pass me my coffee.
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