I’ve not written yet about my Dream Team – and I should really, because those ladies – my colleagues in the team I work in – are the jam and cream on the fruit scone that is my job.
They’re also my day to day socialising at the moment, because I have forced them all into meeting me online for a cup of tea twice a day whilst we quarantine, and it’s only 64% so we can communicate about work tasks.
I had a…tricky…time at work last year. Various family tragedies beset the academics in charge of the research centre, and one of my colleagues left abruptly, leaving me holding the baby that was the research centre (and if you know me IRL, you will know I am not a fan of babies. I prefer kids when they’re, you know, adults.)
We finally got round to hiring a new manager and a new administrator in June last year, and whilst my existing admin and I were doing a bang-up job, we were a little frazzled by the time the rest of the Dream Team came on board. And the two new members have completed our team beautifully.
It’s a rare joy to find colleagues with whom you are totally in sync with – rare to find colleagues you can actually stand to be around for the eight hour working day, to be honest. I’ve been pretty lucky when all is said and done – most of my colleagues have generally been lovely people who’ve been a joy to be around (those who haven’t know who they are), but the Dream Team? Oh the Dream Team.
They have enriched my life in a way that might be tipping over the edge from lovely synchronicity into worrying co-dependancy, actually. (cf. aforementioned statement about meeting online for cups of tea). It shouldn’t be this good to go to work. You shouldn’t have this much fun at work. You shouldn’t go to Christmas markets with your boss and the people you manage, drink cider, scoff sausages in buns, make rude jokes, take the piss out of each other and just generally find that you leave work at the end of the day thinking, “Well that was a pleasure!” or wake up on a planned day off and think, “Damn. No Dream Team today.”
I hate being away from my family and best friends during this lockdown. I hate not being able to meeting my friends for coffee, to cuddle my friend’s dog, to sprawl on a sofa with my ladies and chat shit about the world, hate not being able to see my grandpa, hate not seeing my mum, my dad, my brothers, hate that one of my brothers is an ICU nurse and therefore on the front line of the RoRo war, hate not being able to get coffee from my favourite coffee place on campus, I hate hate hate it, and even though Grandma told me I should never hate anything, I think she’d understand right now.
I hate not seeing my Dream Team every day.
So seriously: #staythefuckinside #coronaquarantine and it’ll all be over soon.
Joy of the Day:
Talking of Dream Teams….