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a passionate repentance

New jobs, old fears and other forms of stress

New jobs, old fears and other forms of stress

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may God stand
When did I turn into my mother?

I think I did it some time last year. When I worried and gnawed and fretted and regretted until I was blue and ragged. Not that being my mom is all that bad a thing. I'd be able to make a decent Jello salad, I'd have lots of friends, and I'd have a great marriage.

I'd just make my children crazy.

Having this new job is wonderful, but I forgot when I was praying for it, that there was this period of madness, called training, where I'd have to question everything I thought I knew and learn it all over again. It's not a difficult job in terms of being exacting intellectually, but it requires that I *pay* attention and know the right thing to do.

Which does not react well with stage fright. My one consolation there is that stage fright passes. Or passed. I can do this. I know I can.

I just have to learn how to stop being my mother.
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