Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, I wrote a lot.

I had time to sit back and think about my thoughts, and decide which ones were important enough to record, and write them down.

Then the last 12 months happened.

We are at the 1-year "anniversary" of the beginning of the hardest year of my life.  And the end of it.  With no additional one-year options tacked on.

A year ago, my boss resigned and took a great job in another community and I was appointed to take her place (temporarily at first, and officially later---more to come on that).  The old me, the pre-babies me who thought her only true worth was found at work, would have jumped with a capital J at this opportunity.  But I had just found my groove.  My job at the time was hard enough to keep me feeling challenged and engaged, but not overly stressful, nor did it require much time beyond my normal eight to five.

I didn't have much of a choice about things though.  I began acting as the Director at the end of September--right at the beginning of the most contentious period of my town's local elections--the results of which would determine what my future employment would be.  Also, it was the beginning of my department's busiest time of the year--which we would now be entering one man short.

So I stressed about the politics (would I have a job in January?  mine is an at-the-pleasure-of type of position).  I stressed about my performance, knowing that my performance as acting director was effectively the longest job interview ever.  I stressed about the workload--which was daunting, and some of the new tasks--which were so unbelievably difficult.  I stressed about the time this was taking me away from my family.  I stressed about the toll the stress was taking on my mental and physical health.  I stressed.  I stressed.

And I thought it would all get better when I was officially offered the new job (which I accepted) and I was able to hire someone to backfill my old position (who is amazing).  But while the edge of the panic softened, and I was no longer on the verge of tears most of the time, I still felt an unbelievable burden.  After all, I still owned a house in Colorado I couldn't sell in a town that nearly caught on fire on the national news, and I still had two sweet toddlers to schlep and feed and love and manage, and I still had family members with failing health and scary surgeries coming up, and I still had to find a new house to move to and then move and then get the new house set up so it felt like home, and I still had a cross country trip to plan and pay for and execute with the whole family.  And more, and more, and more.

But now I'm putting that year to bed.  Right now I am living the new normal.  All of those stressful things from last year?  They're over now.  The house is sold, our family members are healthier, we've moved and set up house, our family trip is now a happy memory.  And I'm still here.

I made it through.  It's over.  And I'm starting fresh.

L'shanah tovah tikatevu.  May the new year be a good year for you.