December 13, 2025
I wasn’t planning to leave the Island and return to the mainland until 2027.
Life, however, had other plans—and my control issues came roaring to the surface.
I work remotely as an admin for my son and his partners’ company in North Carolina, a role that requires wearing more than a few hats. The company operates on Eastern Time, which puts me five to six hours behind, depending on the season.
Recently, our warehouse manager resigned, leaving the inventory system in disarray—especially for those of us who don’t know the inner workings of what he left behind.
Being the solutions-oriented (and admittedly controlling) person I am, I decided the best answer was to fly to North Carolina for the month of December and into the New Year.
When you’re responsible for scheduling technicians for service calls, it’s hard to trust online inventory numbers that don’t feel solid. I needed eyes on the ground. Preferably, mine.
On the Island, my days have a gentle rhythm. I wake at 6:30 a.m. and begin work at 8:00 a.m. my time—which is 1:00 p.m. Eastern. I work a four-hour shift, then spend the rest of the afternoon resting, regrouping, and writing, putzing around the house. No commute. No traffic. Space to breathe.
Even though I love it, North Carolina looks very different.
Here, I’m up at 6:00 a.m., commuting to the warehouse to be set up by 8:00. I leave between 2:00 and 3:00 p.m., then head straight into traffic for the drive back to my son’s home on the other side of town.
The fun part? Living with my son and his family—which means playing with my granddaughters, ages 18 months to 7 years old. And spending with my “Baby Boy!”
And let me tell you… who knew fun could be so exhausting?
I love every minute of it—the playtime, the learning, the reorganizing, the driving, the magic of being with children during this season in particular. But by the time I hit the hay, I am operating at a whole new level of tired.
Today is Saturday, and I finally listened to my body.
I slept in.
I rested.
I took a bubble bath.
I played computer games.
I ate at my leisure while the family was off to their usual Saturday classes and errands.
Now I’m trying to decide whether I go to Walmart in my old sweats… or put in the effort to change clothes and look like I have my life together.
Writing about it is more fun. And I don’t have to leave my room.
Win. 😉
I’m also late posting because I dropped my laptop face-down and cracked the display screen. That means I now have to connect to an external monitor wherever I go—yet another unexpected time consumer.
“Just buy a new laptop,” you might say.
I don’t want to. This one isn’t very old, and while I’m adapting, I’m also being a little grouchy about my self-made predicament.
I guess all of this is my long-winded way of saying: I miss communicating with my Blog Post Buddies.
I told you there would be moments when this space would be raw.
This is one of them.
I’m here at my least creative, my most exhausted—and still reaching for my grit.
I promise there will be a brighter Christmas season message before the big day.
For now, this is where I am.
And that has to be enough.
By the way, the sweats won!
Please consider leaving me a word or comment. All I’m seein’ are bots in my comments. LOL!
Gritty Granny signing off – living in the here and now . . .
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