Hello World!
Three years ago, I decided I was going to throw myself the biggest party I’ve ever had. I would welcome myself jubilantly into the golden years, which seemed an unfathomable reach, with song and dance in the company of friends and my two daughters. Things seem to be turning around for the better. I was feeling better about myself at work, I had just become a grandmother for the very first time, my youngest daughter’s health appeared to be on the mend, and I was looking forward to heading back to school to get my bachelor’s in business administration.
Life did what it usually does: it ran off wildly and furiously fast until it was 3…2…1…
Welcome to 50!
A month prior to my 50th birthday, I had finally gotten the promotion I had been hoping for. I was working more hours than I had ever worked (or I had expected to be working) to not only keep the department running alongside the also newly hired supervisor, but also to take time to learn all the ins and outs of what the new position entailed. It was disappointing to not have the extra money as a front line employee when I worked the overtime. Now, I was working on my own time (salary) knowing the financial benefits would surely come. As much fun as I was having in my new role, I found that I could not fully enjoy it because of everything else that was going on around me.
My co-workers brought plenty of joy to the day when the surprised me by lightly decorating my desk and pitching in for three Mexican food platters and a birthday cake.
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