Well, it’s officially over. I had 9 consecutive days off and they were GLORIOUS!
It’s amazing what a little time off can do for a person…
I’m generally wound pretty tight. I’m intense and task-oriented and typically move through the workweek jumping each day like hurdles on a racetrack. Each day gets me closer to each evening where I can de-compress, cook, grocery shop, do laundry, play with Grace and connect with Andy.
Each evening gets me closer to the next day where I will multitask like it’s going out of style. I have a bunch of balls in the air and I juggle them like it’s my job. Oh wait, it is my job!
I push hard, full steam ahead, giving my all to my job and trying not to freak out about balancing work with family.
Then, come Thursday night, I take a deep breath…
It’s almost over.
At least for 2 short days before it starts up again.
Fridays are generally decent, albeit hectic. Without fail, come 4pm all hell breaks loose. The schedule I’ve orchestrated all week long gets shifted and has to be re-configured. Loose ends need to be tied up, one more project has to be submitted during business hours (which extend till 8pm thanks to my good friends in Oregon!).
Friday never really gets me too down though. I mean afterall, TGIF! It’s the weekend, baby!
Then, once I’m settled at home with the Hubs and my little Boo Bear, I pull the breaks like a train heading for a cliff. I want time to slow down.
This is what I’m living for.
I’ve been struck lately that the old adage, “It’s about the journey, not the destination” really is true. We’re never going to get there. Not this side of heaven anyway.
Life is about the daily grind. The small moments.
The hot cup of coffee with just the perfect splash of hazelnut creamer. The smell of Grace’s hair sweaty from the night’s sleep. The prickly goodbye kiss from Andy as he heads off to class. The sound of the classical music humming in the background of the living room as I work from home in the afternoon. The way Grace chews her blueberries during lunch – those cheeks, those lips, those tiny pearly whites. The bike ride after dinner, wind blowing in my hair, pretty houses all lined up, each one unique from the next thanks to the old neighborhood that holds them. Goodnight kisses before tucking Grace into bed. Watching “Bones” with Andy and guessing whodunit while falling more in love with our favorite characters.
I cannot be so busy pushing forward to the destination that I miss out on the journey.
So, here I sit. On the one hand, I’m terrified of going back to work tomorrow. Of picking up the burden of responsibility after a week of total freedom.
On the other hand, I think I’m ready. The routine of the workweek keeps me organized and productive. It stretches me and challenges me. It forces me to savor the little moments each day rather than getting drunk on the them as I have all this week.
I’m sad to see my week-long summer vacation grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, but I’m excited to see what’s in store on the road ahead.