Good Sunday

I just got off a rambling video chat with my daughter, who was cosy in her dorm room after doing laundry and tidying up her desk, and was curled up on her bed watching the rain from her window. She vowed not to set a foot outside all day. What about dinner, I asked her. Ramen noodles, she said.

Now I'm watching football with my husband and fondly remembering when I used to win all the football pools at my previous job. I was pregnant with my daughter, and my husband and I used to joke that her little spirit was channeling the future and I was listening well.

I don't have the usual Sunday-before-Monday angst, and I've figured out why. I'm filling in for my boss, who is on two months medical leave (she's going to be fine), and I'm the one in the morning meetings with her boss, so I'm in the know as things arise, and I have a chance to share my thinking, help steer the course, which means things don't feel as uncertain suddenly. I'm no longer the sitting duck waiting for instructions to walk in my door, lacking context, leaving me to discern the true intent behind the directives, and deliver on that.

Now, I'm the one walking into my poor colleagues offices and giving them the ever changing news. I do try hard to give the context, and to help them figure out a way forward before I walk away. And I get to delegate, rather than have it delegated to me. I'm usually really glad not to be the boss, but I'm finding, after two super intense weeks of getting used to this new role, that being present at the inception of ideas and being able to weigh in on midstream changes definitely has its perks. Like more serene Sundays for starters. At least this Sunday.