Easy like Sunday – Up or down?

I love my featured photo! I love that I see things others may not… and capture them with my camera. Today’s photo was taken while we waited in our car for a cargo ship to go under a drawbridge on our way home from a leisurely Saturday drive.

BUT WAIT!!

I have to go back to the night before last, when I had a dream of a drawbridge… going up… and me, running (as if!) to jump across the abyss before it was too late. You’ll wonder if I made it across? I did. And that’s *all* I remember of the dream.

Bridges in dreams, huh? Naturally, I think of transitions… one place to the other. But DRAWbridges? What makes them different is that pesky break in the middle. That break that *must happen* for the other, more important vessels to pass. Maybe I’m feeling less important or that my boundaries are being crossed? Or I could get all Freud-y on ya and talk about the phallic meaning, which is actually a “thing” with regard to bridges…. HA.

No, I think my dream was about a decision I’m having to make, which I’ll discuss in a moment.

So, we were in line waiting for the ship to pass. I looked out through my husband’s window and saw the scene. I knew I needed a shot of it.

I will never get over how many unexpected cemeteries there are around here. Like, right in the middle of a residential neighborhood, in the middle of some field, or on the side of the highway (which is like a freeway, remember). Some are attached to churches, which feels right. <<< They’re my favorite! This one, though… right next to a car repair place, which also feels out of place, to be honest. No other businesses around. Lots of vegetation, though. Lush, what with the water just a stone’s throw away.

The stairs, though… those dark wooden stairs with the green, green grass… they spoke to me. They said, “I can help you up and in and/or down and out. Either way!”

Yeah, I responded, I’m going that way. Which I know sounds confusing. Not to the stairs, though. They understand.

See, I’ve been wrestling with a big decision for the last two days.

As you know, I’ve been “working from home” for the last six months. I’ve mentioned before that I was among a small group that had extenuating circumstances that kept me from bringing the work setup home and so accommodations were made. They were incredibly kind.

For a very small group of us, it’s time to go back to the office. I was told about two weeks ago, and was totally on board. Happy, even!

Everything changed with a meeting we had on Friday. Let’s just say that – thankfully – it was online (audio only) and not in person. Because, I hyperventilated, wept and almost resigned on the spot.

It seems that going back to work in the age of Covid is not a simple matter of “bring your mask and hand sanitizer”… in fact, the act of getting to our desks every morning took almost an entire hour to explain and includes a complicated online reservation system that makes getting on an airplane seem breezy in comparison. And I’m NOT exaggerating. Seriously.

I won’t bore you with the minutia of an average day of work after that preamble… but suffice it to say it will be uncomfortable at best and panic and/or asthma inducing at worst, what with talking on the phone for 8 hours a day wearing a mask. I mean, seriously, I’m a senior with asthma, anxiety and allergies (hey, all A’s!) and I can’t even bring in tissues to wipe my nose.

So, yeah… I’m standing at the foot of those stairs trying to remember what made me start working again (and full time!) after I’d already kinda/sorta retired. And make no mistake: I do remember! The money is helpful for our household and a couple of my kids need financial help right now. Good reasons, both.

So, this is where I devolve, moan and complain about my life of deprivation and then slap myself silly because I’m rich in the most important things, a’la George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life. One of my past posts describes it all very well: HERE.

Ah, well… this is me being me.

Have I decided what I’m doing tomorrow morning? I’m pretty sure I’m going in… damn the torpedos. I already reserved my desk. But if I don’t… you’ll certainly be among the first to know! Wish me luck!

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