“Look out! My pants are blasting off!” Thankfully, no one was hurt. But I tell you… motherhood is much more dangerous than I’d once imagined. Blasting pants? That was not in any of the “What to Expect…” books.
This morning it was 50 degrees and raining. The temperature plummetted rapidly and by this afternoon we were in the midst of a sleet/ice/snowstorm. I was at work by 7:40 or so, with two problems. First, I had a package that I needed to take to the post office. Second, I needed to get to the store for some staples like bread and milk. The weather was getting worse by the minute, and work was busy, and finally I managed to break away and run out. I didn’t feel like I could take the time to do both errands. The roads were already getting bad. So what did I do? I went to the post office. I guess the kids can have beer on their cereal for breakfast. And, um, little sandwich baggies filled with sunbutter and jelly for lunch. Oops.
Is there such a thing as a workplace without politics? Probably not. I found out today that I’d offended one of my coworkers, sort of, by accident. (Not sort of by accident; totally by accident, but sort of offended.) The incident in question was innocuous, even according to the person who let me know that I needed to tread more lightly. It’s not a big deal, and part of me is relieved to know that my fabulous coworkers aren’t aliens or anything… the perfection of it all was actually more disconcerting than someone being a little quirky and/or controlling.
Do not engage in a “what if” pissing contest with someone who can out-ridiculous you. The future may be uncertain, but catastrophizing really doesn’t help matters. What started as a perfectly reasonable discussion about the possible obstacles ahead ended with my conversation partner predicting my children would surely die via
wild tame animal consumption. So that was productive….