I took a brief sabbatical from blogging, which actually means that I was having so much fun this summer that I didn't have time to write about it. I only write when I have nothing that interesting happening in my life. Sorry reader(s?).
I recently worked a forty-hour week for the first time in 2
years. And I am EXHAUSTED. Thank goodness my first weekend back to work was
Labor Day weekend so I had a few days to recover. I hadn’t enjoyed a weekend
like that in forever! In Grenada, on the rare occasions that I remembered the
day of the week, I would be so excited about Fridays for a split second. And
then I’d remember that Billy never stops studying and I can stay out late and
sleep in on any day of the week. And I’d actually end up dreading the weekend
because Sundays were the only days I actually had somewhere I sort of had to
be.
I forgot how annoying
it is to wake up before Billy, scramble around in the dark, and then get a text
from him while I’m at my desk at 10 AM that says “good morning”—I must have
repressed those memories in order to save our marriage. They invented the
middle-finger emoji specifically for that situation. The other morning, we had
stayed up until 1 AM the night before and my 8 AM wake up call was brutal. I got
up to turn off the alarm and start the day, and Billy says from the trenches of
the covers “I’m so proud of you” before he turns over and goes back to sleep. I
could have slapped him. So, before I leave I always lovingly shake him to say
goodbye and kiss him in bed. It’s very gentle and loving, I swear.
I know 8 AM is when most normal people wake up without an
alarm, but let me remind you that for the past two years, I could wake up at 11
AM and it wouldn’t even matter. Since I’m a night owl, I would stay up until 1
or 2 in the morning. Then wake up at 11, check my snapchat and Instagram,
decide between the beach or the pool or Netflix for the day, and maybe do some
studying once the sun went down. We watched our nieces in June for a few days
while their parents went on a trip, and the hardest part was the lack of sleep.
To hear that door creak open at 5:15 AM still makes me tremble in terror.
Looking back on the past two years that I was “retired”, I genuinely
wonder what I did all those days. I vaguely remember being stressed over
certain situations—like when Billy invited all the missionaries over for dinner
(I panic at just the thought of feeding more than 3 people). Or when my exams
were due and I convinced myself that I’m a worthless accountant and was going
to completely fail them. Or when it would rain every single Thursday. Pool days
were on Mondays and Thursdays, so for a while there, I was only allowed one
pool day per week. So tragic.
Anyway, now that I’m a working woman again and I run errands
on my lunch breaks and do homework from 5-10 before I pass out watching Stranger Things with Billy, I’m kicking
myself for what a lazy ass I’ve been. Yes, yes I’m partway done with my master’s
degree, and I’ve learned a few recipes, and I discovered my love of running. But
I only took 2 classes each semester, I haven’t cooked since May, and in
addition to running, I discovered my love for Stroop wafels. Seriously, what
did I used to do all day?
I will admit that working full time has made me a better
wife/human. Besides the tender shaking awake when I leave for work. I come home
exhausted, but happy. I feel bad ass that instead of adding to our compounding
debt by shopping and entertaining myself, I’m working to pay off our loans. Well,
more like the interest on our loans. Okay, it’s actually more like I’m working
to pay off the credit card debt we racked up this summer when we re-discovered
Target and Amazon. But I love that I get to learn the ins and outs of a new
industry and solve problems bigger than “When’s the last time I left the house?”
Oh and another positive of working is that I can wear all my nice clothes again
and not feel like I wasted money in buying them. I mean, I guess I could have
before, but I didn’t really ever want to get dressed for the day if I didn’t go
anywhere. And before you say, “Shouldn’t you get dressed for your husband?", just know that we’ve
been married for almost 6 years. That shit stopped about 5.5 years ago. When I
walk in that door, the bra comes off and the sweats come on.
The grass is always greener. When I’m working full time, all
I want to do is sleep and watch Netflix all day. When I am actually living a life where I sleep
and watch Netflix all day, all I want to do is get a job. I feel like I probably
need therapy.
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| The faces of a couple with nothing better to do than play all day. RIP. |
