This weekend my entire staff left camp (the majority of them went to a Christian music festival 3 hours away in Program Director S's hometown). Ordinarily I try not to leave camp, but since they were all gone, I figured it would be fine. I went home to hang out with the BF.
On Friday night, we went out to dinner and then went over to one of his friend's houses. I was EXHAUSTED after a full day of camp and a long drive. I wanted to be in bed at 8:30, not socializing, but I went anyway. We hung out, had a few drinks and chatted.
There were two main topics of conversation of the night- the first was how much they all hate their jobs and wish they could go back to college. They probably earn twice what I do and when they leave for the day, they are done. I envy that part of their lives, but I can't imagine going on, day after day, and not loving what you do. While they lamented how awful working was, I couldn't stop thinking that I would do my job for free and that, while socializing with all of them was fine, I actually wished I was back at camp (my job).
The second topic of conversation was about their weekend adventures. As I was sitting there listening, I couldn't help but wonder about the safety of the van load of 19 year olds I'd sent off earlier in the day. I was thinking about how I hoped the 17 acres of property and 25 buildings I am responsible for were all okay without anyone there to keep watch. I was thinking about the hundreds of tiny humans I am responsible for keeping alive each week.
This is my dream job and I am honored to be responsible for all of the aspects of camp that require my care and attention. But because it is my dream job and the most important part of my life, the pressure to make sure it is safe is immense. I don't have a boss. There is no one else who I can defer to when I'm feeling overwhelmed. I have a board of directors, but their attention comes and goes, depending on what's happening in their own lives. And really, none of them know much about camp, so they aren't usually a source for advice or support.
At 28, I never imagined I would have this much responsibility and listening to BF's friends talk about their lives, I couldn't help but feel incredibly old. While they were texting other friends to come out and party, I was texting my staff, making sure that they weren't out in severe weather. Because while my staff are legal adults, their safety this summer is my responsibility. I worry about them driving, whether they will make the right choices. I was worried about Counselor A who is taking medication for an allergic reaction; Counselor N who is stressed out about her sick Grandma; Counselor J who is deathly afraid of storms... the list goes on and on.
On Saturday, BF and I went to a fundraiser one of my brother's friends hosted at a local bar. I was planning on having a few drinks and then heading home. I'm not sure at what point a few beers turned into 4 shots of tequila (about 3 1/2 too many for a 130 pound girl) and MANY beers, but that's what happened. I don't drink often and getting completely crazy only happens once every few months.
When I woke up Sunday morning, I couldn't walk or even stand. I was dizzy, sick, still wearing the same dress from the night before, and I had vomit in my hair. When I arrived home from BF's house, I was carrying my shoes, hunched over in agony and, as best summed up by my brother, "a hot mess". I felt like a freshman in college who makes terrible choices and needs to grow up and learn to drink socially.
I had warned my staff several times that they had to be on time and READY for the 1pm meeting on Sunday. I reminded them to get some rest over the weekend so they would be ready for the week.
I had to leave my house no later than 10:30 to make it back to camp in time. I had hoped to leave earlier, stop at the bank, get back to camp early and set up for the meeting. Showering, getting dressed and loading 100 pounds of squirming bulldogs into the car required more effort and breaks than I have ever put into anything. I managed to drive away by 10:35, but I felt like I was going to DIE.
A half hour into the drive, I had to pull over to put my head down and will myself not to be sick. An hour into the drive, as I drove past the exit for my mom's house, I realized that I was so dizzy and shaky (lack of food and water) that I wasn't safe to be on the road. I detoured to her house where I collapsed on the couch. I managed to eat a piece of bread and drink some water and then took a 45 minute nap. I knew I wasn't going to make it to camp in time, but I also knew that I wasn't going to make it safely if I didn't stop.
I called S & A and let them know I was sick. "Food poisoning" from the night before. I was on my way, but the drive was going slowly and they would need to do the meeting without me. When I finally arrived at camp (2:30pm), everyone was so nice, felt bad for me, and of course urged me to take it easy. I felt guilty for lying to them, especially since they were SO supportive, but I wasn't about to let them know what I'd done.
I was completely disgusted with myself. I am WAY past making bad choices and letting them get in the way of my responsibilities. Everything ended well. Camp can run without me supervising every minute and every detail and my hangover eventually went away and I went back to healthy, happy camp director.
A weekend of feeling really old and then very young, I'm not sure what "normal" 28 year olds feel like, but it was a strange combination...
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