In six months, Hadley will start pre-school. Which means that, for TWO WHOLE glorious days a week, I will have two hours and ten minutes all to myself. I know what you’re thinking, and considering that I think of taking my kids to Parents Day Out so I can go get a pap smear a vacation, you bet your ass I’m counting those ten minutes.
That means that for the next two years after that I’ll have three mornings a week to myself, and in 2016… five.
Hang on. I need to go change my underwear.
I actually had to sketch that out to make it work in my brain, by the way.
I feel like we’re on the uphill swing; the fog is starting to lift. I knew eventually the day would come when I would have some time to myself; it just always seemed so far away. And the question on everyone’s (Nick’s) mind is, “What are you going to do?”
I’m a planner, so I’ve really started to give this some serious thought. Go back to working at an ad agency? Teach a couple of days a week? Volunteer? Finish my (now dusty and probably irrelevant) novel? Take the day shift over at Diamond Cabaret?
And the answer is: I don’t know yet what the long term will hold. However, according to my calculations, if the average employee gets four weeks of vacation for working 40 hours a week, and I’ve been working 24/7 for four years, then I’ll be entitled to roughly fifty years of vacation. But I’ll settle for six months off before I have to make a decision about my life’s direction.
In excited anticipation, I’ve started making a list of things I’m going to do in 2016, on my six month sabbatical from reality.
So far I’ve got:
1. Take banjo lessons
2. Learn how to do a back spin
It’s really a work in progress.