When it Rains, it Pours

Oh, this week. It’s been exhausting, all kinds of exhausting, and I thought it would never end. I keep trying to write this post, but can’t seem to finish it.

Last Tuesday I quit my job. I don’t know what to say about that. It’s been a long time coming, I guess. I had been with the company for almost eight years. Eight years of terrifying lows, dizzying highs, and creamy middles. This break-up feels something like a divorce, punctuated with the hurried cleaning off of a desk and filling of a box. I hate, hate the way it ended, but a good part of me feels like this is the beginning of the rest of my life. It stings now, and feels terribly irresponsible, but I know that this will be a good thing. The right decision. Maybe because, for now at least,  I’m home with my sweet baby?

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’ll have to do something.  Freelance, contract, full-time, oh my. I am loving working with my ladies at ruby & roja design and One2One Network, and I’m excited about the potential of those opportunities. For now, I’m just going to hold Asher tight and sniff his head every couple minutes.

Thursday I left on a jet plane for Nashville, to join my wimmins at BlissDom for a long weekend of blogging, bonding and blisstinis.

Friday night I was sitting in The Pink Slip lounge when I looked down to see that I had missed a call from my dad. He knew where I was and what I was doing, so I excused myself to call him back. He was calling with bad news, news that could have waited until I returned home on Sunday if my family wasn’t so damn wired. There was a death, a sad, unexpected tragedy that he was afraid I’d learn about online if he wasn’t able to tell me first. Mike, thirty three year old Mike, husband to my cousin Kendra and father to amazing seven year old Hannah, died from complications of a back surgery. I don’t even have the right words to express how heartbreaking this loss is. Mike was an amazing father, giant like a teddy bear, quiet and strong, deliberate with his words with a gentle, easy sense of humor. Almost four years ago we were vacationing in Florida together, lounging in the pool, when Kendra, in Mike’s lap, said, “Hey Sarah! Look at Mike! It looks like he’s wearing a sweater!” He just smiled that big silent smile, shrugged and rolled his eyes, never relaxing his arms around her.

The funeral was Wednesday. After a weekend of unnaturally warm Chicago sunshine in February, the sky opened up today and it poured for hours. Like Toni said, “even the sky was crying.” I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that he’s gone.

Blissdom was fantastic. I wish I could have enjoyed it more, but with my mind in another place and Asher’s onset of the BlissFlu, it was just a struggle. I missed most of the sessions, hanging out in our room with an unhappy baby, and I can’t deny that it was hard to put on a smile and network. So if we met and I was a flake, this is probably why. Let’s do it again in July at BlogHer, hm? It’ll be better, and I’ll be cooler, I promise.