Ah, re-entry

It's always great to be away from work, even when "away" is not a vacation, but just work elsewhere. Either way, though, re-entry is always tough. This morning, not only did I face a full voice mail box (one from a reader who insisted that "tasked" is not a word) and a full e-mailbox (and I get so worried that I will delete something important while trying to thin out all the dreck) and an overflowing book room (which I am so far afraid to face), but a host of other smaller annoyances that always seem much huger (and to that grammar-loving reader mentioned above? I am decreeing that "huger" is a word) when you're just back from time away.

For instance, I can't find my watch. I feel naked without it, and not in a good way. I forgot my work ID badge at home--you know how, when you travel, you empty your purse of all the extra stuff you don't need? Extra credit cards, ID badge, spare keys, etc? And then of course I forgot to put it all back.

I park a block away, behind the back of the building, but this morning I had to rush all the way around the block to the front door so I could sign in at the guard desk. And then they had to call my boss, to make sure it was OK for me to come to work. Yeeks.

And then I picked up my last two paychecks, and found that I have been docked for three vacation days even though I only took one. The woman who can solve it isn't here today. I will not forget to ask her tomorrow, believe me...

I find myself repeating the mantra from the weekend: Oh, well, at least I have a job...

I am going to go out and walk around in the rain and try to regain my equilibrium.