The thing about working is very similar to momming. You can’t really turn it off without serious repercussions. Like getting fired. Or the kids going to juvie.
Because as much as I really do enjoy working, especially the money part and the fame in the grocery store part (apparently, people do read this), this week is appearing a bit daunting. Okay, unbelievably, nail biting, can’t-get-out-of-my-own-way overwhelming.
Anybody know if The Family Leave Act covers Thanksgiving week?
Because it totally should, especially if you’re hosting your lovely extended family or traveling beyond a 3 hour car ride with anybody in a car seat. I’ll take hosting over traveling with little kids any time. And I have.
No car seats here, but I happily host Thanksgiving, seriously, and have for over a decade. Thanksgiving is my hands down, all time favorite holiday. When I first started doing this and confessed my glee to a friend, she said, and I quote:
“Sure you love Thanksgiving now. I’ll remind you of this when you’ve been at it a decade and are ready to stab somebody with the carving knife.”
About the work thing, though. It seems clients that have laid dormant for weeks are now awakening. Which is good news, except for the part about ‘this week.’
This week being a working mom is bad, bad, bad news.
Because while I can handle Thanksgiving and guests and volatile relatives and overeaters and drunks and, well, nothing says the holidays like the psych ER, I’m destined to become an even crazier bitch than my usual sunshiney self if I must work a lot this week.
Ain’t no sunshine when I’ve got company coming.
It’s not the cooking, because I’ve got that under control. It’s the pre-game that’s so unnerving. The prep work necessary for success. Shopping. Cleaning. Chairs. Forks. Hiding the stuff, because man, do we got stuff. Hoarder style stuff; four kids will do that to a house. Must debrief acceptable dinner table stories. When to cut off the wine. How to pry the iphone from Grammy. Hide the pies from Grandpa.
It’s a lot. I can cook for 20 without batting an eye, but it will take a month to clean off my dining table desk so people have a place to sit. And I don’t have a month. I have until Thursday.
Honestly people, it’s time to panic. Thanksgiving is this Thursday and there’s still Halloween pumpkins composting on the stoop. I can’t stop the calendar, as much as I want to, and I can’t stop the workload, as much as I don’t want to.
I just want to postpone it all a teeny tiny bit so I can enjoy every moment of the day, and not wish the time away.
Just like with the kids.