Ever since Owen's surgery, I have had an "appointment" break, which has felt like nothing short of a vacation. What have I done with this break you may ask yourself? Well I have worked of course. This should all show you how sick and twisted I am. Mondays at work feel like a vacation compared to 4 appointments in Manhattan, every Monday, 3 of which are in different facilities all of which have corresponding parking issues. I.e., there is no parking.
What makes this even more difficult to understand is that I work in the city. At the very bottom tip right by the S.I. Ferry. So what makes working so much easier, I wonder.
It's not the distance. Work is farther than the farthest appointment in NYC. It's not really the commute either. I take the Metro-north to work and then the subway, but since my Kindle and I have become best friends, this is actually enjoyable. Driving to the City with Owen is usually just after the A.M. rush hour and I usually get out right before the P.M. rush hour. I guess it could be going between the offices, incurring $75.00 in parking, having to drag diapers bags, splints, extra clothes and food for the two of us for the day.
But mostly, after having 5 weeks off, I realize it's the emotional baggage I drag around every Monday. Waiting to hear the Orthopedist tell me that we need another round of casts (oh, and don't be surprised that we will hear that this coming Monday, because we will). It's hearing the pulmonologist tell me that she really does think he has asthma on top of everything else. It's going to P.T. and O.T. and listening to him cry. AND I DON'T WANT TO DO IT NEXT WEEK!
But I am going to. Even though I feel like kicking and screaming. Even though I want to pout in the corner. Even though the thought makes going to work seem more enjoyable. I am going to do it.
And then, for the whole month of August Nick is going to do it because he is off. I get to feel like I am on vacation (while I am at work) for one more month!
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