Making Time for Trouble

Typically, the problem with Tuesdays, is that they are nothing more than Mondays in disguise, as are the other weekdays that sneak up to cause chaos in our lives between weekends. I realized this recently.

My alarm screamed at me sharply at 6:00 a.m. I got up promptly after one snooze segment. From 6:09 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. that Tuesday was a blur. I remember getting dressed, getting my daughter dressed, packing lunches, commuting to school, commuting to work, answering phones, filing papers, entering data, going to meetings, reading reports, answering e-mails, scarfing down lunch out of a little black microwaveable tray, and drinking 42 cups of coffee just to stay awake through it all.

By 5:30, I had traveled to the sitter’s and home, and a whole new set of to-do lists awaited me there.

There was mail to sort, bills to pay, dishes that had sat so long they could practically crawl off the counter by themselves, and laundry piled so high I didn’t even have to bend over to push it into the washer. And, I hadn’t even opened my daughter’s Strawberry Shortcake™ backpack yet. Who knew what was lurking in there – homework to check, forms to sign, stories to read, book orders to peruse, and cursive to practice. And then, there was dinner to think about, which was always a trial to a mom like me who considers myself challenged in the field of kitchen ethics.

I did what I could to empty my monstrous domestic “in-box,” all the while still trying to recuperate from the mental traumas my regular 9-to-5 had inflicted on me like busy office work will.