Torture of a podiatary kinde

Today is the last work day of the first week after my maternity leave. So far, the most difficult thing to get used to has been these stupid high heel shoes. My feet ache and complain 2 hours into the work day. I am not used to this. Whoever created and instituted the high heel shoe for professional women, was just plain sadistic.

I look at the men’s shoes longingly. They are flat, have rubber soles. They speak of comfort. Wish I could get away with wearing guy shoes at work. I’ve always wanted a job where I could wear jeans and skateboarder shoes every day. I think I should’ve gone into the journalism line in the end. Pity that I moved around so much as a kid. Couldn’t settle down and join the school newspaper. Most schools don’t have em.

I was 10 minutes late this morning. I’d like to take this time and blame my wonderful husband for not kicking me out of bed when I was supposed to get up. The top brass here at the office had deigned me worthy for “flexi-hours”. But, I’m on probation for the next 6 months, as HR informed me this morning. So, we’ll see how it goes. It works well for me, coz I have to drop and fetch my baby at daycare.

It was sort of weird driving past the office this morning, on the way to daycare… I was thinking to myself that if I didn’t have to drop the kid, I would have been on time. Also, if the day care was on the way to work, I would have been on time as well. Instead, I drive past the office every morning, and then drive back. Don’t get me wrong though, it’s worth it. The baby is well taken care of in the BEST day care (and most expensive) I could find.

I have a grand total of 5 work outfits. The new pants I bought is dragging on the floor today. I forgot to put a seam in last night. It’s the weirdest thing – I get home, hang with the baby; feed her. We have dinner. Then, I just pass out. I’m suddenly so tired that I need to just lie down. I then immediately fall asleep and we rinse and repeat for the next morning.

This morning, as I drove past the mall, a deep longing seized me. If only I could go to the really expensive hairdressers again. My spending habits had to change after the conception of my bundle of joy. And, I’d rather have her than awesome hair. It’s just that, sometimes I miss the perks that came with money. So, the plan is to study further, and stick it out in this job till my contract comes to an end (next year). Then, I will look for a better paying job.

I’ve always been really good at going for interviews. It’s also strange. I plan an outfit, do my hair nice, put on some make-up, etc, when i have an interview. My vocabulary (and CV) is very good, and I use it to full effect when speaking to prospective bosses. But, the crazy thing is, I can’t be bothered to do all that for daily work. I wish I could work in a place that’s les… serious and full of deadlines.

I’m happy at my current office, don’t get me wrong. But, if I could fantasise about the perfect job for me, it would be as I said above – jeans every day. No or few deadlines. Hi tech, where everyone at least had a nodding acquaintance with Twitter, for crying out loud. Friendly people. Very little pressure.

I don’t know.

I wonder which line of business would have suited me better. Journo-ism is full of deadlines. But, if it were a job I’m good at and where I know what I’m doing, I wouldn’t mind having a deadline to do it in, as long as it’s reasonable.

Child care? Who would have me?

My master plan is to try applying for work with the government if all else fails. They are always hiring as far as I know. I just wanna get out of the audit game at some point. It’s rather repetitive. And feels like a lot of stress all for nothing.

I was hoping my body would go back to it’s pre-pregnancy shape, but it seems not. I am now 2 pants sizes bigger than I was last year. Hopefully things will fall into place in time.

I knew I should have packed some food for today… I’m hungry. Gonna see what I can forage.