“I’m off to have some sushi with friends from work.” I told a friend over the phone this morning.
“Wow. You have such a fun life.” She said wistfully.
“Euh.” Yeah, I’m brilliant when I don’t know how to answer. “Not really.”
“Every time I talk to you you’re on your way out to lunch with friends.”
“Yeah. That’s because I only ever talk to you on Mondays. The rest of the week I eat at my desk.”
In theory I have two chunks of “free time” a week: Monday mornings from the moment I drop off the girls at daycare to the time I pick up Little L after her morning nap and an hour Friday afternoon. In practice my Friday hour always gets usurped by work, bah, so Monday mornings are all the time I have to get any personal tasks accomplished: writing queries, answering writing job postings, blogging for Silicon Valley Moms Blog, working on my novel, doing research, etc, etc, etc. Yeah, all that in two hours. Care to venture a guess as to how much of that I actually get done? Me neither. It gives me hives when I think about it too hard.
Anyway, as soon as I get the call from my friends that they are leaving the office, I hightail it out of the coffee shop and head for the sushi restaurant. Since my coworkers and I are not allowed to leave the office at the same time the only day we can eat together is on my day off, Monday. We converge in front of the sushi boats, inhale as much raw fish as we can cram into our mouths in fifteen minutes or less while gossiping furiously, and then each rush out in our respective directions; one girl towards her second job, the two others towards the office, and me towards the daycare to pick up my wide awake baby.
The afternoon is split between spending quality time with the baby and trying to accomplish everything that didn’t get done in the morning. Sometimes if the stars align we take a walk with a friend and her baby, but in reality our kids are rarely healthy at the same time, so more often than not Little L and I stay home in the afternoon. And then, long before I’m ever ready, the lock on the door turns and C bounces into the house closely followed by M. My day “off” is over. If I listen carefully I can hear the squeak of the grindstone as it starts to turn.