Tonight feels like a harbinger, of sorts. It’s not the first time that Karin has been away overnight, but Martin is out, too. He doesn’t go out often or socialize nearly as much as his sister, mostly because the majority of his friends live much farther away. She can bike to the next village or get one of us to drive her over since we’re in that town nearly every day for something: groceries, gas, soccer practice pick-up and drop-off, etc.
But tonight they’re both gone, and while it’s not the first time that Karin has been away overnight or the first time Martin has been out with friends on a Friday, or even the first night those two occurrences have coincided, for some reason tonight it’s making me think about how things will be in not that many years, when they will both have moved out or away and we will be left to amuse ourselves. Just me, and my man. I suppose all parents face it at some point, but I haven’t thought too much about it before, and frankly, I’m not all that eager to think about it now.
Last night was gorgeous after a so-so morning of chilly weather and spitty drizzle. I drove home from work through sunshine that slanted long and golden over the fields. There was a hot-air balloon in the distance and the trees below were utterly still. Clouds low around the horizon lit up pink and purple and coral. Today was gorgeous, too, and warm. I sat outside with a colleague at lunchtime and thought I’d never felt anything half so good as the heat soaking into my shoulders. When I came home today I went out and laid on the trampoline in the sun. With my eyes shut, the world was loud with the cawing of crows and other smaller birds. The light through my eyelids turned everything white, then red. I lay perfectly still and I could feel the static electricity from the rubber mat setting the hair of my arms on edge.
Yesterday, I got the official announcement of my promotion…or rather, my title change, at work. I haven’t had a title change in a very, very long time…nearly 9 years, I think. I was hired originally as a Marketing Coordinator, and became Corporate Graphic Designer after a year or so, if I remember correctly. Now, I’ve got the title to match what I’ve actually been doing for the past several years: Senior Corporate Graphic Designer. Senior because I’ve been there the longest, because I have the most experience, because I still know where everything is and who to ask. And because I’m the one who trains the newbies. When I was a team of one, there wasn’t really any need to differentiate, but now we’re a team of thirteen.
It’s sort of a mixed feeling thing, though, because “Senior” makes me feel old. And, let’s face it, I am getting older. I’m no spring chicken anymore, and definitely not a junior. Most of my colleagues are younger than I am by far; one just celebrated her 25th birthday. My boss is younger than I am. And her boss. Anyway, it’s all good. And since I got a raise just a couple of months ago, feels quite timely.
I thought flying this way wouldn’t be cause for much jet-lag as it’s usually much worse in the other direction, but this week has tuckered me out. (Another sign of aging: using the word tucker). So now I shall go relax on the sofa with a book about language that I just started and which already seems fascinating and go bed when I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and sleep until I wake up, all by myself, without an alarm. Heaven!