Last week it happened. I felt better. My feet were dry for a whole day and it did not feel like the ground would swallow me whole when getting off the couch. When leading an office life this means it’s time to go back to work. Because you do not want those emails piling up. So, I did, well at first I tried.
Tuesday morning, I got up, swallowed some pills. I am getting very very good at the pill taking. Then it was time to take my boy to day-care, after various struggles with shoes vs. boots and major refusal of wearing a coat. By now my feet were wet and cold and there was not much breathing going on. Still I got on my bike, boy on the back, and got him there. But that was as far as I got. I fled back home, back to the couch.
Wednesday, Mama day. The day I stay home with my boy. For the past few weeks, I have not been able to do that. Since I could not take care of myself, I could not take care of him. But this time I could. We had coffees and lunch together and did a Supermarket trip. This must seem very mundane, but since not so many days before I could barely make it to the shower, it was the greatest feeling ever.
Thursday, finally the real back to work day. I took the Boy to day-care, hopped on the ferry and actually made it all the way to work. Forgot my tag, but whatever you can’t have it all. The way our, redheaded totally Jordaan* receptionist I will call A., greeted me made it all worth it. She was happy that I was back, no judgement, and I am happy to be back. At some stage I will explain what kind of boring job I do but for now it’s enough to say: