|This was before it gained a door and curtains and a flower box.|
|The kid has decided it's a police station.|
We got back just in time to have A and I and K over for impromptu curry on Sunday night, which was exactly what I hoped it would be. Hooray for cosy low-key dinner fun! Also, the daylight saving bonus hour meant we could happily stroll up to Chaps for dessert afterwards to stretch our legs.
I had my first hospital appointment, which did not take 3 hours as warned in the letter, but which did occur in the middle of a workday afternoon. Having primed myself to make the announcement at the production meeting that morning, I found out the meeting was cancelled. And then it turns out that I was sick enough with this everloving goddamn cold I still have to be sent home before needing to declare my need to leave work early anyway. Still dodging that bullet, then.
It was The Boy's birthday yesterday, so we went to Red Door for dinner, of course, with P & L & L. The kid and little L stopped for a dance on the platform in the park outside the station on the way home, and had the good fortune to witness a fire truck setting off, a helicopter flying overhead and a train pulling in to the station from both directions at the same time. Greatest night of those small boys' lives.
At 16 weeks last time I was flying to Sydney for a book launch. Times have changed in the book world since then, let me tell you. Although. I woke up this morning, at 5 am, with the opening chords of 'One Little River' coursing through my veins and I knew, I KNEW, everything was going to be ok. I will find my way, some day, and all I need to do to I get there is be open to the possibilities. And then I got to work and P whispered into my cubicle that she's been offered a promotion. And she wants to take me with her. The job title she has been offered is highly unlikely to involve just her. (She would be the only project director in the entire company without someone to direct.) We would be a dynamite team. We already are. We make shit happen. We make good shit happen. But she doesn't know about the babe. And the circumstances of her move are all still up in the air. I am stuck. Should I tell her? Moral quandary! Will she be pissed if she schemes a way up and out for me, only to have me turn around and say kthanxbai? If I do tell her, do I trust her 100% to continue with the plan as before? She is the INTJ to my ESFP, and has a ruthless streak... She has a phone meeting with the Sydney boss next week, to sort out the finer details. I do not trust him as far as I can kick him, so he will be the last to know. (Also, he's in Sydney, therefore utterly unaware of the waistlines of his staff.) The boss on the level between us will weep when he finds out P is moving, and that I am going too, either way. I meant that metaphorically, but the more I think about it, the more I think he may actually cry. We prop him up something fierce. P's professional development meeting is in two weeks, so common sense would indicate that all will be out in the open re: her position by then. My PD meeting will be some time in the week after that. Regardless of what I tell P, should I tell my crybaby boss? If the men bosses did know, and they didn't offer me the better job, I would have a pretty fair shot at getting that overturned on discrimination grounds... Hard to argue that point if I don't tell them. But maybe there is no great plan for me, baby or no baby, so telling them won't make any difference? Maybe I'm better off telling them so that they can plan right now to lose me for good, and happily send me off with P? The one friend at work who does know about the babe doesn't yet know about the P development, and I can't very well seek her opinion without breaking P's confidence. She would most likely tell me that I don't have to tell anybody shit anyway. Which is true. But all of this ignores the fact that in a week or two, I won't be able to hide it anymore. Gah. Longwinded ramblings. I still don't know what to do...
The kid knows what to do regarding shit(ty situations). While we were driving to work this morning, he said, 'Yeah. Try and squeeze one out every day, Mum'. Good advice, kiddo.