A Warm Paddling Pool.

Tomorrow is my first day at my new job as a CDP. A CDP is a Chef de Partie – the person in charge of a whole section of a menu. Middle management of a kitchen, if you will.

I came to this community not really knowing the ranks of the eateries here, but I knew that the area was full of restaurants among wineries and so there definitely was one. People have taken the time to get to know my son and I since we moved here which is different. Scary. Unnerving, but welcome. My boy dives straight into new social situations whereas I am more careful. I’m used to people getting to know me because they want something that I can’t offer. Or, equally, they don’t care to know me and in turn, do not disclose anything about themselves, but choose to take what they can steal – any slither of my character as a fruit ripe for the picking. Getting to know people is an exchange which requires bravery of which I am in deficit.

I’m sitting on a bank in front of the beach near my new house. My son is away at his grandparents, my ex husband 45 kilometres away in the city, finally absorbing the luxuries of bachelor life. The wind is warm and the waves caress the beach as my head lulls itself into a deep contentment. The water was temperate. I have so much to write about. I want to write about how I don’t or shouldn’t have any expectations of success at my new job. I want to write about the guy I’ve been seeing and how he makes me feel when I see him, but also how unsure I am, because no one that beautiful is capable of leaving me unscathed.

But for now, here, at 8.15pm, I’m content. In this little bubble of a minute, my tummy fed, my heart whole and my head humming quietly, I just need to document this. Tomorrow it could be different, or most likely the same. But this? This is nice. I’ve worked for this. It’s okay to be happy.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.