Cindy

Droog

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November 12, 2007

Home or Work? Where Am I?

Lately, I have been having senior moments when I can’t remember whether I’m at home or I’m at work. I’m starting to find full separation of job and family close to impossible, especially when my son is sleeping, out with his dad or otherwise preoccupied in a manner that doesn’t involve me.

For example, I can no longer tell the difference between doing laundry and preparing for a weekly meeting. Both chores are never-ending. Just like I swear I washed that long-sleeved black t-shirt a week ago, I’m pretty sure I wrote the same update memo seven days ago. I sent the same meeting reminder to the same people, who will meet in the same conference room and discuss the same topics.

What really makes me nervous is that next week, I’ll add “Detroit Lions Boxer Shorts” as an agenda item for my meeting, and be forced to explain that one to my coworkers!  

Laundry isn’t the only chore that I can no longer discern from a work responsibility. Just last week, I attended a day-long brainstorm session. Eight hours. No less. Sitting in the same chair, looking at the same scenery (hey – at least this conference room has a window!). Drinking tea from the same hot water pitcher that hadn’t been warmed up since breakfast.  

It reminded me of the Saturday before when I conquered the window cleaning in my house. It took several hours. It put me in a couple of uncomfortable positions. And at the end of both days, I didn’t feel like I’d accomplished much. I just felt sweaty, exhausted, and ready for a martini. 

Then there are those work situations that are a lot like changing a diaper. They’re really stinky and painful, but as long as you can convince the other party to stay still, you can get them over quickly. Changing dirty diapers is a daily task, as is dealing with the project manager who e-mails you daily asking about late projects.  

For each, I find it helps to first hold my breath for a brief moment. Then, find a distraction to make the other party involved realize that the situation isn’t so bad, and that remaining still and quiet will help. For my son, it’s usually a truck of some sort. For my project manager, I find a good list of other – and higher – priorities to be my best defense.  

Picking up toys and checking my e-mail are the other daily chores that I’m finding all too similar. I often do both once everyone else is sleeping. Both go into an “inbox,” some to be accessed again for several days in a row, and others to end up at the bottom, saved because they’re sure to be needed later, only they never are.  

Not to mention, some toys talk back, like the electronic baseball tee that – no matter how lightly I might touch it – yells very loudly “It’s a double!” and shocks the heck out of me. Likewise, even if I send an e-mail at 5 a.m., there are some people who will respond right away. They shock me just as much, but I can’t turn them off.  

Of course, I know exactly how to solve this little problem. First, I need a housekeeper. Of course, the goal this time would be to find one that doesn’t quit after two months to “find herself.” I hated to tell the last one this, but she could have just looked for herself in our spare bedroom closet.  

Once I’ve successfully employed a housekeeper, I’ll comb Hollywood for my stunt double. She can (at least) sit in my day-long meetings for me, accomplishing feats of creative and strategic amazement that would speed the decision-making process no matter how large the committee.

Obviously, my confusion between work and home responsibilities is spreading to cloud the difference between my dreams and reality, too. I just hope I don’t get caught drooling on my keyboard.  

© 2007 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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