Wow. Going back to work has been awesome. But, I wasn’t really prepared for the reduction in personal time thing and the writing time thing. Writing takes a lot of moldering time for the brain, at least it does for mine. And, I kind of forgot to reduce my drinking time. While it is true that I have to squeeze it into a different time schedule, it just seemed to mean that my after work hours became make up time. And for some reason I like to write at 11 am.
I did, however, recently find time to throw a dinner party. Texter wanted to get the parents together – meaning, his GF’s parents and his own. So I called up my (sort of) ex-husband – long and short of that is that we have been separated for, well, um, 8 years, but have not actually filed the paper work for divorce – and I arranged for all of us to get together at The Big Red House for dinner. GF is a vegetarian, and sometimes my culinary skills get wonky around vegetarians, being more of a slow cooked meats kind of a girl. And then I had to push back the time, twice actually, as it dawned on me that as I work until 6, and hadn’t shopped, it would be hard to have the original 6:30 schedule. They were kind about it, and they arrived with many bottles of wine at the appointed hour. I liked that. I liked them. The “children” went off to do video game type things with Pokester, which was awesome, and the “adults” stood around in the kitchen, drinking and watching me cook. Extended cocktail hour meant dinner at 9, by which time the “adults” were having a high old time.
I am proud to say that I only fell down twice. And it was in exactly the same spot. Went down on one knee, right leg extended cheerleader style, left knee took the beat down. The second time GF’s mother said “Take those shoes off!” which I immediately did, because she has that kind of presence. If she had demanded that I give her my debit cards and remove my undergarments I probably would have done that too. Seriously. She has that Take No Prisoners thing going on. We politely agreed that Big J’s drool was the culprit in the slippage department, but GF’s Momma took to calling me Grace after that. The “adults” had fun, the “children” were probably pretty mortified.
Thankfully, I think I have gotten the rhythm of work now and can adjust my drinking schedule to accommodate my writing schedule. The vacuuming and mopping schedule will likely not be affected, since when I had 40 hours a week to get that done, well, you know. I did learn, however, that inviting GF’s parents over threw Texter into a cleaning frenzy. So they might become regular guests.