Werk, Werk, Werk, Werk, Werk

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. 

The faces of a couple with nothing better to do than play all day. RIP.