The other side of the mountain

I went to the kids' Friday assembly today. I always try to get there, but today was particularly important;  my eldest was doing a presentation about the food drive she's organizing in support of the local poverty relief centre.

Standing by the sand pit, I exchanged greetings with another parent, one I knew quite well when the kids were younger, but who I haven't seen much of for the past couple of years.

"It's good to be able to get to assembly," she said,  shifting comfortably from boot to boot. "I've missed a lot, feels like."

"Do you not work Fridays anymore?" I asked, zipping my jumper against the cold wind.

"Mate, I don't work at all anymore," she replied. "Finished up on 15 May. Best thing I ever did."

"Yeah? Wow, must be the season for it!" I replied. "I finish up on 25 June in my job."

"What's next for you? " she asked. "Having  a break, or what?"

"A bit," I said. "Can't go too long without working though..."

"Not being Gina," my friend agreed drily.

"I am going to try to get back into freelancing," I said as she nodded.  "You?"

"Temping, I reckon, " she said.  She is in an allied health field: temp shifts should be easy to get, as demand outstrips supply.

"It takes too much away, doing a big job, doesn't it? From the kids.  From your life."

I nodded. "It really does,  yeah."

We stood together as the kids sung the national anthem,  contemplating the other side of the mountain.