Don't Take Her Home With You

I once had a job that in theory should have been a dream but the woman I worked for squatted at her cauldron all night stirring up ways to make me miserable. Each morning, as I pulled into work I'd see that she had already zipped in over the treetops and parked her broom in its normal place. Any hopes of a good day were over.

Now as much as I would relish the recounting (see post labelled ruminating) of every wicked deed she directed at me, I'll spare you the warty details. Lets just say she was not a novice at her craft and I'm pretty sure that in the chaos of her office was a jar containing the preserved testicular matter of the two poor guy's who preceded me. Or maybe she had already stirred them into the cauldron under a waning moon. Anyway, this was a case where being a girl helped as I got to leave with all body parts in tact.

If it weren't for pesky little issues like feeding myself and keeping a roof over my head, I would have walked off the job somewhere close to 13,984 times in the 2000 years I worked there. Wait, no, my bad - the 2000 years was in witch time- in mere mortal time it was only 2 years. Oh the toll it took! And not just on me but on anyone who was unlucky enough to have ever given me their phone number.

My coworker Mike took the brunt of my ruminating and I adore him for his patient listening. Truly, I'm so grateful that I would give him my first-born son but a) I'm a Dried-Up-Old-Maid and b) he'd rather I find him a boyfriend. (Yeah, he is that type but you knew that as soon as you saw the words "patient listening", didn't you?) Anyway, the truly most wonderful thing he gave me was what has become one of my catchphrases. "Don't take her home with you" he would frequently say as the workday was ending and we were parting ways. "She can make your workday miserable but she can't make your personal life miserable unless you let her." I hated him for saying that. But I knew he had a point.

Ignoring his warning though, I would carefully pack her into my mental briefcase and take her home. Well, practice makes perfect and that she gave me plenty of practice. (Am I supposed to thank her for the opportunity?) And little bit by little bit I got better at leaving her at work. But let me tell you- leaving her at work was harder work than "work"! I caught myself time and time again every evening and every weekend mentally bringing her into my private life and used every gimmick to chase her away. The keys were a) recognizing that I had a choice and b) detaching enough from my thoughts to observe them so that I could c) distract myself.

I wonder if anyone ever reaches "Perfection" with skills like this? I sure haven't. But I do think I'm a teeny bit better about choosing what I dwell on. And even on this Halloween night, I may entertain some goblins and ghost...but I won't let the witch in.