Rusty

I've been feeling a bit rusty lately--as in, mentally creaky. Like, you can probably hear the gears of my brain turning as I attempt to think really hard or complete a task. Particularly the gears responsible for memory, focus and any kind of technical skill.

If you read this blog, chances are you actually know me in real life because a grand total of about five people read this blog and I am likely related to all of them. But in case you did not know this, I recently went back to work part-time.

When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I was working full-time (and then some) as an HR Director for a non-profit. I had planned on going back to work part-time after my maternity leave was up, but after just a few weeks home with my new baby I tearfully told Chad that we had to find a way for me to stay home with her. So we did, and thus my maternity leave went from an expected three months to almost three years.

During that time, I still worked as an independent consultant for the same organization. Thankfully their Executive Director (my boss) is an incredible person who allowed me to keep my foot in the door and work for them as a consultant, rather than just telling me to take a hike :) So while I have been working these past three years, I've not actually been anyone's employee. I've had no office, no co-workers, no space separate from the one I live in to physically go. I worked here and there, between naps and story times, after her bedtime, and at random points during the week where I could squeeze it in.

Somewhere along the way I started getting antsy. Over the winter it was especially noticeable, likely due to the hellish winter that went on for 74 months and almost took my little remaining sanity with it when it finally left in May. I was feeling out of balance in a way that I knew I had to do something about, but wasn't sure what. Charlotte had become a bit more independent, I was feeling stuck in a rut, and I was really starting to miss interaction with adults and having a group of peers and co-workers around me for longer than an hour here and there when I had a meeting to go to. Sure, I run into other adults every day but typically it's in a setting where those adults are also with their child(ren) and our conversations are inevitably about said child(ren).

So on a cold winter day in January my boss called to ask if I'd be willing to come back to the office one day a week. I could not say yes fast enough. I started in February, found that I was enjoying it a great deal, and now another day has been added to my schedule. My contract as a consultant ended in May, and as of last week I am back at my old job two days per week as an actual employee--with an office, an email address, phone extension and space completely separate from my home.

It's a unique situation to jump back in to your same job that you left three years ago. First of all, the organization moved office buildings about two years ago--to a different city and everything--so there was a lot right off the bat that was unfamiliar. Little things, like where the silverware drawer in the kitchen is or how they work their new fancy coffeemaker, are new to me. There are so many new faces. I used to know everyone's name, and now at least five times a day I am introducing myself to someone I've never met--sometimes employees who have been there over a year or two. I used to know everyone's job title, phone extension, work site. Now I have to check a list for everything. Passwords to all of the websites I need to access? I don't know a one. I have a list of login information that's six pages long and I have to refer to it every time I work.

They have a new fax machine, new copier, new mail filing system, new phones. It's all foreign. They have different people who do different jobs, some jobs that didn't even exist last time I was there and some completely altered and reassigned.

I filled out new hire paperwork, something I used to administer before, and had to ask an embarrassing amount of questions. Where should I sign? What forms do you need back? Who should I turn this into? I used to answer those questions and now I'm the asker.

I feel like the new kid, but then again I have more history overall at the agency than many of the people there. I just don't have the recent history.

So I'm rusty. Creaky. But so glad to working these forgotten gears in my brain again. It's a good thing--for all of us.