Last week I wrote about Giving Myself Permission “To Be”. In that post I expressed my need for a long break – three whole months would be ideal at this time. However, my options were limited and to cut a sad story short, I didn’t have the days available to me.
This crushed me, because I really do need time … lots of time. I’m feeling burdened by everything right now and need to find a way to create peace in my life, and find time for me to relax and recharge.
Gary and I discussed this and he encouraged me to request that my hours be cut at work, from five days to four. This wouldn’t be a “forever” thing, but I really feel that I need this to be until the end of June, at least.
On Thursday, I chickened out of asking. I’m just too emotional and didn’t want to embarrass myself, again, by sobbing in the office. On Thursday night, I turned to writing to help me get through this. I wrote my bosses a letter. It wasn’t long and it wasn’t pleading. I just stated the facts, after thanking them for their support so far, and then asked them “the question”.
My plan was to leave the letter on one of my bosses desks just before I left to go home on Friday afternoon. I thought this would give them the opportunity to talk about it after hours (which is something they often do) and then they would have the weekend to get used to the idea. So that on Monday, any … what’s the right word … negative feelings towards me might be smoothed over.
On Friday morning, I felt so sick. Nerves, worry, fear all simmered in the pit of my stomach. I knew that I had to do this now…or not at all!
At that moment, one of my bosses walked into my office. I don’t know what I said, which is probably good. I remember holding the letter out to him and his eyes widening. I knew he thought it was my resignation. I murmured something about being too emotional to address them personally, so I’d written what needed to be said in a letter.
The deed is done. They haven’t given me an answer yet. I hope they don’t make me wait too long. This is what I want, what I need, so why am I feeling so tight in the stomach? Why do I tense every time one of them walks into my office?
I’ll tell you why. I’m scared. I’m scared they will say no, because that will take my last hope away. And I don’t know how I’ll cope without any hope. I’ve given what little I had away, and now I’m desperate to get some of it back.