“Early to rise, early to bed, makes a man wealthy but socially dead.”
I scribble this to you, kittens, bleary and cranky from my desk at work. I’ve been here since 6:30am.
After months of applications, a few interviews, unreturned phone calls, and more applications, J. and I figured that there was no work to be had for him around here – not too shocking a revelation, but still pretty unwelcome. We’d decided to head out to the East Coast to spend some quality time with my family, who we don’t get to see often enough, and do whatever odd work we could find out there. Last week we started making concrete plans.
Which is, of course, when J. got a last minute interview and a job offer.
I could just pout. Not because I’m not thrilled and grateful he found summer work, I am! But because this has more or less been the pattern of our lives for the past year – we make a plan, it’s a good plan, we start working towards that plan, and fwoop! The rug is tugged out from underneath us. We’re pros at righting ourselves when our balance is tampered with, but still. I’ll be spending some time out there by myself, and we’ll spend a couple of weeks there together on our way to London, but I was really looking forward to my summer in the woods. Ah well, I’ve already started coming up with some schemes to make up for it.
The only bad part about this job of his is that it starts at 7am, which means I must be deposited at my office with enough time for J. to get to work. He gets the car because his shift ends in the early afternoon and I’ll still have hours of work left. My last month at the PD will have some long hours (and we all know that a morning person, I am not!). On the other hand, I now have another previously untapped hour in which to work on projects. That’s pretty great, to be honest.
It’s just already been a long day, and my trainee is struggling. But it’s Monday so I feel both she and I are entitled.