The thoughts and feeling expressed in this blog post are solely those of the author and do not represent the official position of any government agency.
(Usually, it's a leaf. Today, it was a heart. I'm taking that as a good sign.)
Last night, I went to a professional association meeting. I saw some of my co-workers there, and some other work friends. It was great to see people after so many days out of the community, especially my fellow furloughed lawyers. I also saw my boss, who made me feel cared for and appreciated. The folks on Capitol Hill may not care about me, but he does, and my coworkers and colleagues do, and that means a lot.
I left the meeting in a better mood, with a smile on my lips. But sometime between putting The Boy to bed and watching yet another episode of Kingdom on Netflix, I sank a little lower again. My husband said I had the glazed appearance of someone who has watched too much TV.
I told him that I was just trying to figure out what I was going to do the next day. He had suggestions, most of which I rejected, even though they are mostly things I did during Shutdown Weeks 1 and 2.
During the first two weeks, there was this feeling -- in addition to all the anxiety etc. -- that it might not last long, so I'd better make the most of it. Now, Week 3, I have found myself not really wanting to do anything other than sit on my sofa and watch successive episodes of a not-good-but-not-bad Stephen Fry television program.
I told my husband that, a couple of weeks ago, I would wake up with a list of things to do in the morning. Now, there's no list, or there hasn't been...until this morning...again.
So my 16th day of furlough, today, began at 1:19 am, when The Boy started yelling for Mommy. Of course, hubby and I stayed up to midnight, so this was an awfully early call to duty. We seem never to learn the you-never-know-when-the-boy-will-wake-up-so-go-to-bed-by-ten lesson.
I went up to get him. He told me that he had bad dreams. I brought him into our bed, and we all slept mostly well. The Boy likes the "H" formation these days while sleeping with his parents. However, we did sleep mostly soundly until about 7:19, when he crawled on top of me and said, "Pick me up," but just laid there on top of me with his head on my shoulder. Cuddles. Nice.
Every time I bring him into our bed, which is pretty often lately, I worry about his not getting used to sleeping in his own bed. I worry that I'm undoing all the sleep training we have done and redone. But then I think: "He's not going to be sleeping with us when he's 18, so I'd better enjoy it." And so I do, even when I wake up with little feet in my face, maybe especially then.
Last night, I had plans to go running first thing this morning, but when I woke up -- for the first time at 1:19 and also at 7:19 -- my right hip was bothering me. I think it's the abrupt change in the weather: cold, rainy. Forty-three-year-old hips. So I'm doing a postnatal yoga DVD instead. (Hey, I'm still post-natal, even if he's swiftly headed toward age three.)
Re running: I think my new running shoes are going to have to be just knocking about shoes, which is okay. People had warned me about Nikes for running, but I didn't listen. Tsk, tsk. (But they look so cool!) Alas. They bother my instep. So I think I need not to run in them anymore...which leaves me needing new running shoes, again. Better go back to the Brooks, I think. (But they're so expensive....)
This morning, after we dropped The Boy off at school, we went to breakfast, as has become our furlough custom. I tend to have a chai latte and either Greek yogurt with fruit, or oatmeal with fruit.
Hubby has an eggy thing, each one more delicious than the last. If we're still furloughed tomorrow, I'm going to get an omelette and a chai latte, I think.
But there's a feeling around this house this morning of expectation, a feeling that this may be the last day of the furlough. Things are moving swiftly on Capitol Hill, if the news is to be believed. The debt limit deadline approaches, and most of Congress doesn't want to spook the markets. There is a hardcore group of Representatives (and Senator, maybe) that is so ideologically pure that, I think, they'd just as soon drive the country off the cliff than compromise. That's unfortunate. Maybe they think that they'll be going to Politician Heaven if they hold the line...because they sort of behave like their political principles are articles of religious faith. (What would that be like, Politician Heaven? A mahagony paneled room with large comfy chairs and copies of the WSJ and FT strewn everywhere? Plenty of scotch? No girls allowed, unless they can see Russia from their front porch?)
Here's hoping that the cooler heads prevail. Can Mitch McConnell and Harry Reid get it done? Will the "one Senator" who people think might throw a wrench into the works actually throw a wrench into the works? I think we're going to have a nail biter today.
So because we feel that maybe, maybe, we might be back to work tomorrow, hubby and I are getting things done around the house. On the agenda: filing paperwork that's piled up (me), fixing toilet (him), wrapping some birthday presents and sending them on their way (me), paying bills (him). And we'll be practicing our instruments, I'm sure, and doing homework for our MOOCs (me, plant biology; him, physics). And monitoring the news....
And then doing the laundry...for there is always laundry.
See you on the other side, maybe.....
