Second warning - contains no midwifery content either! Just whining. And a snapshot of my day.
Don't you hate it when you wake up early to see the kid off to work. After a late night baking sticky date cake for her work, waiting for it to cool and packing it carefully. In bed after midnight. A hot night, not good for sleeping.
When you head out to the dentist, arrive after arranging the appointment weeks ago for while you were on holiday and being told your appt has been shifted and no-one told you?
And that your notes had NOT arrived from the previous dentist after sending a fax weeks ago requesting that very thing.
And when she keeps offering you an new appointment at a very inconvenient time because I'm a shift worker and that's why these things are arranged weeks in advance honey! No, I have paid A LOT of money to attend on conference on THAT day. (Oh, beam me up.)
And you get home to spend the last day home alone with your sweetie, but he's gone into work to kill some time because you were at the dentist.
And its your first day home alone together for literally months, and you know what that means.....
And when he gets home you go to hang out the just finished washing before leaping into the sack for some well-deserved adult time...and he has put a new tea-towel in the wash - a RED one- with your three favourite (previously) white tops, fave nightie, knickers, socks, and assorted other things that you really wanted to be WHITE (and now they're not).
So you grind your teeth and reach for the bleach while the washing is still wet, and you run out.
And while you are trying to remain cheerful and maintain the idea of libido the phone rings and its the workplace and someone has to come home because her back hurts from standing.
And she works a 40 minute drive away. And they can't possibly let her come home on the train (literally doorstop to doorstop) because she is distressed.
And don't you hate trying not to punch a wall with frustration (of all kinds) that the day's plans have gone awry? On the ONLY day alone together on our holidays.
And then you have a meltdown where you pour out your heart to explain why this is so fucking shitty. On so many levels.
And you both drive clenching and sniffing through snot to the workplace (thereby dripping shiny snot onto your fave clean pants) to pick up the also sniffing and red-faced worker, and deliver her floor workmat for standing (so there is no further excuse for repeat performances). She then catches the train home with her Dad because there would just be way too much emotion in one car. The workplace support workers support me as I blub.
There's no way to ever get this day back again. Life's like that. It could be worse.
Casual lunch out with hubby was quite nice in a 'desperate escape from the house with zero privacy' kinda way. But not what we had planned.
Then, with back miraculously repaired, and offers of pain relief declined she sat at her computer and read Fan Fiction with a smile on her face. He had a nap in our room, I fell asleep with a book in the lounge room.
Then he went out. Then I went out, walking, in the 36C heat to a long meeting where I scribbled very hard for two hours.
When I got home we looked up the only remaining hotel room in Perth for Saturday night, Valentine's Day, in a 5-star hotel for a luckily very good price.
What do you do when you need privacy?