I must confess that Mondays for me are sad. Generally around noon, I re-live the phone call from Hell that separated me from a job and people I love. While it’s true that I no longer feel the pressing anxiety of attempting to meet an unrealistic deadline – I didn’t know how affected I was until I was no longer under that pressure – and I know that an opportunity where I can learn and grow is waiting for me to discover it. The loss hits me in the solar plexus with enough force to leave me breathless.
I know, I know, it’s all a part of grief and loss that comes with the advent of change.
On top of feeling sad and sometimes mad, I feel guilty. I learned about the Boston Marathon Bombing from the orthodontist while my oldest was getting her back braces installed. My being unemployed seems small when compared to the horrors that befell runners and spectators alike. My heart goes out to the victims of this senseless cruelty.