Worker's Comp
Took a hard briefcase to the quad this morning just after exiting the Metro. Pinhead. If I had any time at all to exercise, this would be upsetting. As it is, the only athletics in my life involve taking the recycling out to the end of the driveway.
Unless typing counts. Worked each part of the three-day weekend, with the only consolation being that I didn't have to wake up early or be concerned with personal hygiene much, being the only one in the office. Get a lot accomplished when the phone's not ringing, e-mails aren't popping up, and new Metallica is streamable. "Day That Never Comes." Check it out.
I've also done some deadlifting, in the form of a twenty-five inch female baby person, whomst I have been able now three times to get to sleep and put to bed. It's that tricky transition from crook of my arm-to hand-to bed. Iffy proposition, but great when it works. Saturday morning, after being up an hour with Ainsley, I took over at 6 and got her to sleep right away. I didn't want her to risk waking back up and stirring the household, so I just wandered around for fifteen minutes and then sat in the chair with her an hour. A fast, quiet, peaceful hour, still unfortunately thinking about work. Also naked people. The mind tends to wander.
Beyond the three days this weekend, I've been averaging a get-home time somewhere between 6:30 and 7:30 (and leaving earlier and earlier, ~6:15), so that blows. I don't like how surprised my son is to see me at the end of the day. I don't like that the only spousal conversations I can have are in whispers after we've gotten the kids down and every finger crossed that they'll stay that way. I do like that my wife is crazy cool and supports my silly devotion to duty. My boss promised me some 'comp' time. I told him, "My wife thanks you."
Unless typing counts. Worked each part of the three-day weekend, with the only consolation being that I didn't have to wake up early or be concerned with personal hygiene much, being the only one in the office. Get a lot accomplished when the phone's not ringing, e-mails aren't popping up, and new Metallica is streamable. "Day That Never Comes." Check it out.
I've also done some deadlifting, in the form of a twenty-five inch female baby person, whomst I have been able now three times to get to sleep and put to bed. It's that tricky transition from crook of my arm-to hand-to bed. Iffy proposition, but great when it works. Saturday morning, after being up an hour with Ainsley, I took over at 6 and got her to sleep right away. I didn't want her to risk waking back up and stirring the household, so I just wandered around for fifteen minutes and then sat in the chair with her an hour. A fast, quiet, peaceful hour, still unfortunately thinking about work. Also naked people. The mind tends to wander.
Beyond the three days this weekend, I've been averaging a get-home time somewhere between 6:30 and 7:30 (and leaving earlier and earlier, ~6:15), so that blows. I don't like how surprised my son is to see me at the end of the day. I don't like that the only spousal conversations I can have are in whispers after we've gotten the kids down and every finger crossed that they'll stay that way. I do like that my wife is crazy cool and supports my silly devotion to duty. My boss promised me some 'comp' time. I told him, "My wife thanks you."
posted by Dan at 8:54 PM
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