Back to Work. Sort of.

January 8, 2014

It’s not as though I really expected we would be closed for a third day in a row.  It really didn’t snow that much yesterday, so all that we were dealing with was the cold.  And the ice.  And the fact that it was too cold to put salt on the roads.  A lot of schools are still closed today, but most businesses, including mine, have reopened.  It was nice to have a mini vacation, but I would have preferred to work from home those days.  You know, not have to use PTO.

I did work from home for about five hours today, though.  Last night I decided that I should wait until daylight to go to work today.  More than that, I should wait until the complex office was open because I was pretty sure that the plow had left at least a foot of snow in front of my car.  Manual labor was going to be required.  And tools.  Namely a shovel.  So my plan was to go through my emails.  If I started working around six, I could put in almost four hours before the office opened at 10.  Well, I kind of woke up at 3:30 this morning.  And I was wide awake.  And I was not falling back asleep.  So I started working at four.  And I took a break after a couple of hours.  And another break after a couple more hours.  Yep.  I’d put in 5.25 hours by ten.  And I was starting to run out of emails that didn’t require me looking at my files or saving an attachment.  Basically, I needed to go to my office to get much more done.  But not bad, I must say.

My two days off were nice, though.  I enjoyed my completely lazy Monday.  And I was more productive on Tuesday.  I even put on pants.  But I also knit a lot and worked on clearing out my Hulu queue.

Which leads me to what I’d originally planned to write about today.  Baby storylines.  I’m doing better with them.  I’m kind of at a cringe-and-bear-it stage.  Not sure if that ever really gets better.  But here’s the thing.  Why can’t babies be born without drama?  ‘Cause I don’t need drama when it comes to babies on television.  I’m living it.  It’s not cathartic to watch.  (I’ve been steeling my nerves to watch the Call the Midwife Christmas special.  Haven’t been able to do it yet.  And, honestly, the births on that show are frequently far less dramatic than on other shows.  But they’re still there.)  Anyway, I was watching this Monday’s episode of Castle.  And since this isn’t going to be posted until March, if you watch Castle, you’ve probably already seen it, but in case you haven’t… SPOILER ALERT…  Jenny has the baby in this episode.  And, fortunately, most of that happens off screen.  A couple of contractions.  Focus shifts to Ryan and Espo.  Focus pretty much stays away from Jenny giving birth.  Thank you, Castle.  And please don’t read that previous sentence with any sarcasm.  I really do appreciate a baby storyline that did not involve a melodramatic on-screen birth scene.  But it still got me.  And I don’t know how the writers knew this.  (Okay, they didn’t, but there must be something in the ether.)  There’s a scene when they’re discussing baby names and Ryan says that if it’s a girl, they should name her Sarah Grace after Jenny’s grandmother.  If my brother had been a girl, he would have been named Sarah Grace.  If a cousin hadn’t been born and named Sarah, I would have been named Sarah Grace.  Why Grace?  After my mom’s grandmother.  Yep.  That’s when I started to cry.  And then when the baby is a girl…

It’s those little things that catch me off guard.  They aren’t necessarily bad things.  They’re just unexpected.  I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay when I finally watch Call the Midwife.  I’ll have prepared myself for it.  (Okay, I’ll probably still cry, but that show made me cry even before I was pregnant, so that doesn’t count.)  But I can’t prepare myself for everything.  I just have to take things as they come and bounce back when they catch me.  It is getting easier to do that.  It may not feel that way in the moment, but it really is getting better.


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