Wednesday, April 17, 2013
I really dislike full-time office jobs. It's the majority of work that I've done, it was the end game of my college degree, and I've only done it mostly because I have had to. I've always planned on being a mom staying at home with my kids. That's just me. All the dreams I have ever had (even the ones that are not mom related) do not have an 8:00 am start time.
But what am I kidding? These days my work days start more around seven. If it wasn't for my angel husband, it would be six. They end around 8:00 pm. I never imagined how people worked retail on their feet all day. But I'm on my feet all freaking day. Today I carried Theo and he's rather light and thin, but he did a dead weight hang and I thought I was going to collapse. I picked up a piece of poop off the ground yesterday that had a bite mark on it. It's my birthday this week and I really haven't cared much. Usually I make it into some sort of week long holiday, where all the planets orbit around me and I make grandiose desserts that usually don't taste as good as I hope. I spend too much money on myself and pretend that we make all birthdays this important.
I realized this week that Theo might be interested in this day, as he loves birthdays. So I told him my birthday was at the end of the week. He said, "My party? My Birthday?"
Theo, if I blow out candles on my cake it will be only because I want you to enjoy it. I finally realize now that I do have a full time job. One that always doesn't give me lunch hours, but I can wear whatever I want. And I might be exhausted and frustrated at times like any job, but I never went back to my office computer in the middle of the night just to look at its beautiful sleeping face. That computer didn't teach me how I could be a better person. It just made my eyes hurt. And yes, when I am studying a wet poop nugget, trying to figure out if the bite in question came from a single or multi-toothed person (answer: multi, and it was "yucky"), I wonder if I would like to instead hire a nanny and sit next a desk and a name plate all day.
But I never would do that, ever. I love my job--especially when I get to retell gross poop stories.
Posted by Malorie at 3:21 PM