half empty

All these efforts I make to be positive, supportive, balanced, cheerful, flexible, enthusiastic, efficient, energetic… I just need to pause. It’s not sustainable, all that optimism.

Bearing in mind that being a corporate wife means I’m lucky, that part of the job is to be patient, there are times when the job just… sucks.

My husband has been asked to wait a little more, for probably a very different assignment than what was offered 13 months ago. He’s been asked to wait. He’s been assured that his next assignment will be a good one, but it will be different from what we’d expected. Instead of Europe, it could be in Asia, or somewhere in the States. He was told this, yesterday, at a meeting he, not they, requested. (At the end of April, he’d been told he’d be updated “soon.” So, “soon” equals about seven and a half months. Good to know.)

My husband is excellent at what he does; he is taking one for the team; he is putting his professional life in neutral while working constantly; his family is in limbo. All for the sake of his corporate employer.

He is a good man, and he is too good for them. Thankfully, he knows this.

But if somebody asked right now, with even a hint of sincerity or empathy, how I was? I might cry, because I am very, very tired. Tired of being a good sport.

I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise. I’ll go to sleep tonight and fantasize about telling a few corporate bigwigs how I really feel. I’ll wake up, and I’ll be all full of energy. Or at least half full.


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