Saturday, September 30, 2006

The Power of an Hour at the Grocery Store

Recently, I heard a male coworker, touting his terribly important self to someone on the phone that he "does more than most people do in a day by 9 in the morning."

And it got me thinking. First, I thought, not for the first time that this guy is a major asshole. And secondly, I so desperately wanted to say - lets throw down, dude. Your schedule vs. mine. Lets go!

Friday morning involved waking up at 6AM to get the Bean's bottle, running upstairs with said bottle to then change her diaper and pick out her outfit for the day. Then I corralled said Bean with said bottle into her swing device so that I could shower. Run downstairs with Baby Fabulous to feed her breakfast while shoving Cinnamon Chex into my mouth while Handsome obligingly got up early to shower himself. Then dress, makeup, Odwalla bar in the purse for lunch, and then it was rushing off to work (walking), turning around once beacuse I forgot my work ID, getting into work at 7:45 AM to copy yet another five extra copies of the Epidemiology exam that was to begin at 8...rushing down to both lecture halls with the exams, helping to check the scinetific calculators of 150 students for stored answers, getting the proctor copies out, then realizing that the proctor copies had the answers on them and running back to both halls to warn my baby proctors of this error....all by 9. So uh, yeah. I win.

Then I used my lunch hour to review possible furniture purchases with Handsome. Planned more of my baby's first birthday extravaganza, respectfully declined an interview with the Baltimore Business journal to dish about the "unexpected" departure of my last job's Director, collected graded exams, yadda...............

And today, yet another whirlwind of motherhood and wife-ness...Woke up with an unusual migraine, began the morning by dropping Handsome off at Home Depot for two hours while the Bean and I went shopping for party supplies and a winter jacket for her. Then back home, lunch, diapers, husnad sawing wood on my $30 dining room table, Bean nap, I nap, and then I ran off to the grocery store, despite Handsome's protests to stay home.

Ah the fucking mental therapy of my grocery time. I don't really know what it is, but come payday, I can't wait to get there. It makes me feel...validated as I shop for healthy alternatives and bargains for my family. It makes me feel useful and smart and invested. And I fucking love every second of it.

It is my hour on sanity and purpose before I give back over to the wonderful world of my family. It has now become my "ME" time.

Funny how life works out.