Seeing bits of sand scattered on the bed of my trunk made me stop the mindless loading of cat food and litter I’d just purchased during my lunch break. My mind flashed back to the Saturday before Labor Day, enjoying my first beach-day of the summer, finally, at the end of summer; feet cozy in the gritty warm sand as waves made rhythmic lapping sounds with the incoming and outgoing tide.
Sitting in my beach chair and gazing at the ocean, I recollected my summer working the Sawdust Festival selling fine jewelry and blown glass, and winding down my subdivision consulting business. I took a sip of my lemon water and slowly inhaled, taking in the scent of Coppertone and sea salt then exhaled all my angst and worry that came from being on the cusp of a major life change.
Soon, my sand covered feet would be crammed into high heels, and my version of corporate casual, cut-off jeans and t-back tank tops would be replaced with sleek skirts and blazers. My commute up the stairs to my home office would convert to a trip across the convenient yet costly toll road, gridlock on the 405 or Coast Highway.
And how would my feline clan fare with my new 8 to 5 schedule away from home?
More disconcerting thoughts consumed my beach day: No more Friday morning horseback riding lessons or impromptu hikes on my lunch break.
How would I manage being in Corporate America after living a free spirited lifestyle as a consultant, writer, seller of art and cat sanctuary outreach rep?
All that resonated with my soul yet didn’t quite pay the bills. The financial burden finally got the best of me and I succumbed to an offer for full-time work, not doing what I loved, but what I knew, and what I knew would get me back on track financially.
As the intense summer sun beat down on my back, I braided my hair to get it off my sticky neck then made a dash for the ocean. The cool salt water soothed my scorched skin and my anxious thoughts.
I snapped back to the present and finished loading my trunk, made my way back to the office, back to my new life.
Adjusting has been a challenge, but one positive besides the regular paycheck—the office is close to a Petco, a convenient alternative for those times I can’t get downtown to Coast Pet Supply.
Oh, and how are the cats managing you ask?
I got your purse–you can’t go to work now…naaa nn na n naaa na!
It’s finally Saturday and we can finally hang out on the deck, geez! Lex, paw-lease. We still got it good here even if we can’t go out when she’s at work.