Last week I received a very flattering phone call. The Gap, where I worked a few hours a week before I had Wyatt, called to ask if I would like to come back. Just a shift or two a week, they said. Their problem is that they are going through a management transition and "they needed someone they could trust, someone who knows what they were doing." I guess that was me.
I thought about their offer and was flattered that they called. I said I would likely do it, but that I would need to talk it over with my husband. I made a tentative appointment to come in and fill out the paperwork, but left an "out," telling them that if anything happened to change my decision in the meantime, I'd give them a call.
Over the weekend, Will and I did talk about it. We were both wishy-washy about it, but I almost liked the idea for three reasons. 1) It would provide me with an opportunity to spend some adult time away from taking care of a baby. (When you are a stay-at-home mom, you see, it is extremely difficult to find time to concentrate solely on one thing. It is near impossible to plan to spend a defined amount of uninterrupted time on one specific task. As soon as you are "in the zone," the nap is inevitably over and you are back to thinking about several things at once, feeling guilty that you are not 100% focused on your child because you are upset that you didn't get to finish folding the clothes or something else that was seemingly quick and easy before your angel came along. So, a job away from home, even a poorly paying one that takes up a scant four hours a week, would actually be a great "break.") 2) The job is super easy and sometimes enjoyable; and 3) Hello? Discount! Then Will and I tabled the conversation.
That tentative appointment with Gap was this morning. But yesterday afternoon, I banged my head.
Literally, on the door frame of my 4-Runner as I was reaching over Wyatt to get something out of the opposite side of the car. It hurt so badly that I held my head for almost a minute, and another lady in the parking lot stopped to ask me if I was okay.
I thought I was fine, but the initial headache persisted through the evening and I thought I felt a bit nauseous and dizzy, like the way my post C-section pain meds made me feel. I mentioned it to Will, but felt okay enough to go to bed and trust myself to wake up, which is a big concern about head injuries.
At 2:30am we got an exciting phone call that woke us up. Our friend and neighbor was going into labor and Will left to be at their house with their now older daughter while they went to the hospital. I ended up staying awake to watch TV because I was still a little dizzy with a dull headache. I started to worry very badly about that bang on my head-worried so much that it caused me to have some tummy issues as well. Worried that that seemingly no-big-deal bump was going to turn into a Natasha Richardson situation (Google it), worried that I was about to die of a brain hemmorage, worried that my sweet son would grow up without a mommy and my amazing husband would grow old without a wife ('cause he's already pledged never to marry again). I called the doctor to find out if I needed to go to the hospital.
No, she said, it doesn't sound emergent, but we would most definitely like to see you in the morning.
The worry continued until today's Doctor visit. I had called the Gap to postpone our meeting. The Doc had some good news: my neurological tests were all normal, and the pressure I felt inside my head was internal bruising. In short, a mild concussion. I may feel "not like myself" for a few days and that's actually normal. Relief. But I knew I had to discuss this Gap thing with Will again so I would know weather or not to call off the meeting for good.
Will and I had lunch together and talked about it a little more. His take: I was likely taking the easy way out by accepting the job. It would be a terrible waste of time for the money (10 bucks/hr), and doesn't really represent my passion, which is the real estate staging business that I have been trying to buid for the past year, with some actual success in my pocket. Taking that job would give me an unintentional excuse to neglect my efforts to build my business. "You're better and more talented than that," he told me.
I never believe me when I say those words to myself. I always get sucked in and flattered by someone telling me that I'm good at a job like that-a job I am too talented for, too educated for, and too smart to take.
So it was decided. This time, I will finally show that I am too smart for the job. So it was 'no' to the Gap, and 'yes' to enabling me to dedicate four uninterrupted hours one evening a week--even if I spend it at a Starbucks on a laptop--to the business I have invested so much in already. A business that allows me to use my talents for design to contribute to our family's finances. A business that allows me to take my child with me to work when I need to. I job I can respect myself for doing, without being embarrassed to tell someone what I do.
I'm glad I got some sense knocked into me.