Thursday, November 08, 2007

late-night thoughts from an emotional mind

John's upstairs, sleeping, and I should be, too. But lately, the days are seeming to go by so quickly - well, no. Not the days. The nine hours out of the day when I'm at work, generally go very slowly. The few hours of the day we have here at home at night, before we have to go to sleep, are the few that race by. I just wish there were more time. There are so many things I want to do, time I want to spend with my husband, and yet it seems like for 5.5 days out of seven, we just don't have enough.

The worst thing about getting done with a long day of work and coming home?

You work hard, go home tired, and then realize you have to start over the next day and do it all again.

I live for Sunday and Monday (our weekend, as I work all day on Saturdays; and John has an office hour Monday afternoon and class Monday night), the days we get to spend together, and I cook, clean, experiment with recipes (and without recipes), actually get enough sleep at night, praise him as he works on all his stacks of grad school homework, and sometimes, go thrifting. And as I pull myself through the week towards those days, each one that passes seems interminably long.

We're considering a new career path for us both, down the road: becoming certified to teach high school (I'm considering elementary education). Weekends off, reasonable hours, and, best of all, summers off. Time! Time to be had together! Time to travel! Time to spend with our children! What a novel idea!

I think a part of what is making me feel so confined right now is the fact that this schedule keeps up relentlessly. How do people do it for years on end, go to the same job, day in, day out, maybe a few vacation days a year? Are they not panicking inside? But I know I have to do this for us. I know that this, at least, is temporary. There are so many marrieds who have conflicting schedules, and it is so hard for them to be able to snatch any precious moments together. I am so blessed to have John, and I know that I would do this for years if I had to, for us. And then I think of my Dad, and how he's done hard physical labour all his life, and wonder how on earth he's done it for all these years, worked year-round, hard, heavy, terrible work. And then I was for us. His family. Because he loves us. And then I remember that that, truly, is why I do what I do; very different work, but the same mentality. I'm not doing it for me - I'm doing it for something bigger than myself: I'm doing it for Us. And really, shouldn't love be the reason? It's amazing.

And I'm tired and very emotional, and finally off to bed.


No comments: