I’m sorry; I’ve been so busy being awesome that this blog has once again fallen by the wayside.
You know that feeling when things just click and you absolutely know you’re kicking ass? Yeah. That’s been me.
Rewind to the final trimester of pregnancy – that time when women are advised to take it easy, slow down, eliminate stress. What do I do? I’m a bridesmaid in the wedding of one of my oldest friends. My social life screeches along at full tilt and I see so many theatre shows. My husband and I even take in dinner and a show with my high school theatre teacher/mentor and his wife.
I do not have words for how awesome it is to be friends with him as an adult. Weird, when I pause to consider how dynamics have shifted over time, but awesome.
I even acted in a play. At eight months pregnant. Go me! In an odd, unplanned turn of events – a hell week development – I ended up operating sound, too. From backstage. On my phone.
Related: my husband is beyond amazing and QLab is a program that solves so many theatre tech problems.
September also had another wedding (I only attended that one!) and two awesome writer-friends came for separate visits. Which means we hosted for two and a half weeks of our September.
That stuff was all planned for, to one extent or another. Some had been in the works since before I got pregnant. Some other things came up that I just couldn’t say no to (or didn’t know any better until it was too late).
What didn’t I plan on? My boss giving her two weeks’ notice. On the same day I had a letter to submit stating my intention not to return after the baby.
I never did submit that letter.
The thing is, this town has a three-person office and we’d just hired a new part-timer to replace the one who left earlier in the summer. (This all happened her first week, poor woman.) So I was already training her. Then suddenly I was interim Town Administrator, Treasurer, and Tax Collector, while still carrying all my previous workload and responsibilities.
September became the month from hell, but, Dear Reader, I kicked its ass.
I may have been waddling around on appendages that look more like overpuffed marshmallows than feet, but I felt like superwoman. Even though I dropped things – promises, responsibilities – in every aspect of my life. How I didn’t develop stress-related pregnancy complications we’ll never know.
This sleeping baby is worse than a cat when she starts to squirm, so the rest of this saga will have to wait for part two.
Melissa Burkart 