Outside Looking In

Work is my life. For better or worse, it is what has always defined me, what has always set me apart. It is, quite frankly, the one thing I do better than anything else. I have to be careful, as I could very well be a work-a-holic. Sometimes I am. Part of it comes from having been almost the sole support since my marriage, but part of it comes from it being the one thing I derive a fairly steady sense of satisfaction from.

That said, it has been a rough couple of weeks. For the first two weeks of July I was out of the office, either using "vacation" time (ie not coming to work, but still seemingly doing a lot of work via cell and e-mail) or sick (where I wasn't even seemingly doing a lot of work - I was flat on my back in bed for five days straight). For the next week, I was in so much pain, I only worked half a day in the office (generally catching up from being out), and half a day from home (trying to keep up with the new developments). I am fortunate that XYZ really does care enough to understand that there was no way I could physically handle a full week back in the office.

Unfortunately, when the world is spinning at one speed around you, and you're only spinning at half speed, you lose more ground than you make up. That is where I am today. From 11 to 3, I sat in three separate meetings for three separate projects, and in every single one I felt like the odd woman out. Nothing I contributed was useful. Everything I said was challenged. For one entire meeting I sat in the corner, saying virtually nothing. I am so lost. I'm so overwhelmed, I'm not sure where to begin, and so I don't.

I feel like I'm outside looking in and everything is surrounded with static. I don't feel like I'm "in touch" any more.