Work wrangling women: Why they’re wonderful

I work in a team of three other women. Don’t Cringe! They – we – are amazing. Together we put out two newspapers each week, including multiple editions for one. How we achieve that, week in week out, with the ordinary, various and constant challenges we each face in our personal lives, never fails to baffle or impress me.
With an independent 18-year-old daughter who has already left home and a 15-year-old daughter still at home but who no longer needs me as she did in bygone weeks, nay years, my life in comparison to theirs, is a bit dull, which is just the way I like it thankyou very much. If you forget the fact that until just weeks ago I was travelling 50 minutes to and from work (and school) in peak hour traffic to sleep in a suburb I rarely saw in the light of day. A month ago I, my remaining daughter and our two dogs, moved house to be 30 minutes closer to our daily pursuits. Enough said about that challenge. We are just starting to feel normal again despite not knowing where the light switches are.
I have also spent time, because I’m obviously a glutton for mental punishment, trading my car in, and like the awesome grown up I now obviously am, I have a brand spanker (to me) in my new carport. A roller door will arrive in less than two weeks, along with a rapid dip in savings.
But let me share the amusing life challenges faced by my co-workers. One has a two-year-old, a shift-working husband and a whelping bitch, moved house two months ago and is required to jam her work into just three days, including after hours meetings.
Another is going through an emotional divorce after less than a year’s marriage. She has moved house four times in the past year and has a tenacious case of chronic insomnia.
My third team member returned to fulltime work a year ago and has two primary school aged children with the usual sporting commitments, a mother who lives in-house and when not recovering from surgery, is an amazing hands-on granny, and a husband who travels every other week for work.
Together they have embarked on an ambitious renovation of their 70s home and the all-important kitchen and bathroom refurbs took place while the man of the house was overseas for two weeks and granny was unable to drive, lift, cook or care for kids. Days of fast food, frazzled nerves, a roving grazing mouse, no hot water and brick-dust covered belongings teamed with a cracker of a flu don’t even tell the half of it.
Most weeks I shake my head with pride at just how good the publications we put out are, with consistently top quality, crafted articles that require the kind of intelligent research and grasp I’m always pleasantly surprised and relieved to know our taxed brains can achieve. All while having our well-deserved cake and eating it distractedly, too.


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