Thursday, March 8, 2018

Lisa Was Right. THIS Will Be Happening Once A Month.

I've been working from home for about 12 years now. Most of that time was dedicated to a couple of large companies. At the peak of my career, and before voluntarily climbing down from the corporate ladder, I was working over 100 hours a week. Salary. I worked 7 days a week. Holidays. Weekends. Round the clock. I work when I'm sick. I don't take days off. Scheduled "vacation time" meant working 50 hours a week instead of over 100. In July of 2012, the week of my wedding, I still worked. On the day of my wedding, that evening, after everyone was sleeping, I worked.

In the here and now, a couple of years after climbing down from the corporate ladder and almost at the point of doing my own thing, I'm still working close to 100 hours a week. Round the clock. I'm a Work at Home Dog Mom. There is no such thing as a day off. A weekend off. Vacation.

The workload per week varies. Some weeks are beyond crazy, busy and stressful. By the end of the week, I'm struggling to keep my head above water. Other weeks, Friday rolls along and I feel accomplished.

I'm not complaining. I wouldn't trade our life for anything. However, that doesn't eliminate the fact that I'm human. I'm not Super Woman. I'm not invincible.

This morning, I felt yucky. Chills. Aches. Fatigue. Weak. It wasn't severe enough to go into a panic mode that I was getting sick. But, it was enough to slow me down. I was conquering tasks at a snails' pace.

Lisa called during her lunch break. I did my best to put on a Poker Face. I should know better. Lisa can always tell.

She asked what was wrong.

I told her.

"When we get off the phone, I want you to drop everything. Go sit on the sofa. Snuggle with the kids. Take a nap. Watch Netflix. You need some downtime."


A moment of silence.

"Yes. You give me downtime every weekend. It makes a big difference. You need it. Please, promise me."

I didn't answer.

I wanted to, but the guilt set in.

We moved into our home in July of 2012. I have NEVER watched TV during the day. I can count on one hand how many times I've taken a nap during the afternoon while Lisa was at work. On those few occasions, I have been genuinely sick with a fever, the flu, etc.

Lisa was adamant.

"Promise me. You need downtime. It's been crazy the past week and a half. You've been making dinner every night for everyone. You've prepped for 2 storms. You've baked a ton of stuff. You helped with snow removal last night. You've helped with renovations. You've spent 2 weeks completing custom orders. Housework. Taking care of the kids. That's on top of your workload. And you haven't been sleeping well. Please, take the afternoon off."


I knew she was right. I was exhausted. In a lot of pain.

"I'll think about it."

Lisa knew that was as close to a promise as she was going to get.

Our lunch conversation ended.

I was hungry.

Lobo and Willa were restless because of the noise upstairs.

Coco and Sophie had just curled up under their favorite blankets on our bed.

So, I did it.

I made a grilled cheese sandwich.

Got comfortable on the sofa with the leg rest reclined.

Lobo snuggled beside of me.

Willa snuggled between my legs.

All of the kids napped sound.

I ate my grilled cheese sandwich.

Caught up on a few episodes of a Netflix series that I've been wanting to watch.



Put the rest of the world on mute.

Lisa called over 3 hours later on her way home from work.

I confessed. I took her advice. She was right.

She arrived home with one of my favorite caffeinated beverages.

Told me to stay put.

Did the dishes.


Then, she took care of dinner.

While at the table eating dinner and playing cards, she spoke up.

"You look and sound more relaxed. Better. You should take an afternoon off once or twice a month. There is nothing wrong with that. You need it. You deserve it."

She was right.

Taking the afternoon off made a world of difference. I felt better. Relaxed. Refreshed.

Lisa was right.

This will be happening once a month.

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