I came back

"You came back," my new coworker said to me on the second day. I laughed and asked if I had messed up enough that I shouldn't have. I wait with the fear punitive and authoritarian bosses have instilled in me since I was 16 at my first fast food job. So far, no one has embarrassed me in front of my coworkers, and no one has told me that I'm making irreparable mistakes. This worries me, what if they aren't telling me that I'm wrong because I'm hopelessly wrong?

I asked, at the end of my first week, if there was anything I should know, and if I was doing OK. I was told everything was great as long as I didn't hide f-bombs in the copy. I should be relieved by this, but I worry. In a world where I know that this part-time job means that we have a small but steady income, I don't want to mess up. The idea of being sent back to poor school, or being forced into the opportunity to work without pay, lurks in the corner of my mind. I can see myself enjoying this job, becoming attached to it, and letting it become part of my identity, and that worries me too. If I become this attached, what would happen if I lost it?

I don't anticipate losing my new job, but we've lost so much in the past couple of years that its not outside the realm of possibility. The instructor at poor school said the fear and worry never completely leave your mind. You may never be comfortable again, even if you become financially secure. I wonder if I will always feel like I'm on the verge of utter destruction for our family with one misstep.

On the first Monday of my second week, my coworker walked past my desk,"you came back," he said with a smile. I asked if that was good, and he said most people would have quit by this point if they were going to quit. I don't say what is on my mind.