The clock is ticking its way towards the beginning of my daycare day and I cannot seem to cram enough into my morning hours.
It is the quiet of the morning that I am absolutely craving by the end of my work week. Knowing my day is not going to walk in my door at 7:30 and consume the next ten hours is the gift of "Saturday" and "Sunday".
It is really no wonder that I am having a hard time leaving the house to go to my weekend job some weeks.
My bookkeeping boss is incredibly wonderful that way. The majority of the time, we only work one day of the weekend. Time off is given like a fairy godmother's wishes are granted for Cinderella. All I have to do is ask, and POOF! my wish is her command (even if we must negotiate a way to make it work).
My boss also acknowledges we both have lives and she gave both of us "Mother's Day weekend" and this upcoming long weekend off.
The load that lifts off my shoulders is incredible. If it wasn't for my rediscovery of the amazing combination of chips and dip (and other snacks just as tasty), I would feel twenty pounds lighter. But even with that I feel like I can almost float when the weight is lifted.
That train of thought left the building at 7:24 a.m. when my day started walking in the door. It is now 8:55 a.m. and I am already fantasizing about the freedom my upcoming long weekend will bring into my mornings and the three days which follow tomorrow.
I backed the car out of the garage (to take it in for repairs) this morning, and wished for a day where I could clean out the garage while the car was out to play. Then a light bulb went on. I can back the car out of the garage any day. I really don't have to wait until the car is out getting serviced, to clean the garage.
I shall clean that garage! I will shred the box of paper which has been sitting beside the shredder since Easter. I hope to watch a movie or five. I must get some more columns submitted. I want to write the winter/spring daycare newsletter that has been sitting on my to-do-list since January. I am committed to working on an "income tax job" I have taken on.
I would love it if my car went no further than the driveway, while I clean out the garage, because all I need is right in my own "back yard". It always is. It always has been.
Everything that fulfills me is within these walls I so gratefully call a home. Friends and family are only a card or letter, a phone call, an email or a text away. I think that is why I am so drawn to employment that I can do without stepping out this door.
The furthest I hope to go away from home this weekend is the garage.
It is now 9:10 a.m. and I have no idea what my point was (or if I had one) when I started this post back before my daycare family walked in this door and filled up every nook and cranny of the morning.
I am oh-so-grateful for employment that is delivered to my door five days a week. But just don't expect too terribly much of me on the remaining day or two I have left after my work commitments are fulfilled. Sometimes a have a lot left over but more often (I'm sorry!) I am in dire need of a weekend just like the one I see in my forecast.