On My Feet

It used to be I ran for "me" time. Now I run for "sanity" time. According to my training schedule, I was supposed to do five miles this morning. I did eight. As I said to Adam when I returned, "Sorry for taking so long. I started running and, well, I didn't want to come home."

And why would I want to come home? My work schedule has been screwed. Last Monday I didn't get to work because of Yom Kippur. This Monday I didn't get to work because of Columbus Day. Next Monday I don't get to work because I have jury duty (jury duty!), which I had postponed from a year ago, not knowing how swamped I'd be with work (you can only postpone once; I was actually game to go last year but was told there was nowhere I could pump and if I showed up with my baby I could be cited for contempt of court). So that's three weeks of one work day after about a month of no work days because of Doodles switch from day care to preschool. Since mid-August till now, I've had one week--one--that I've actually gotten both work days in my week.

So I needed my day today both because I don't want to fall behind and because I simply enjoy working.

You know where this is going, right? I've got two--count 'em two!--sick children to contend with. No daycare. No preschool. No work. No happy children. No happy mommy.

What a day. I'm ready for another run.