It’s so fun reading back over previous posts so I can trace just how manic my life is. The last one was practically zen-like in its calm and balance. Hah. 

This one will be a doozy, I just know it…the stress is slowly building into rage that’s going to explode in some ugly manner. Which is kind of sad, seeing as how I have admirably kept it together for the last few weeks, but every so often you hit a point where you start to feel really out of control. And, surprise surprise, I’m a dweller. I can’t just put things outside of my head and keep moving forward, even when I know that I have no other options, and even when I know that most likely, a couple of days will see things sorted out or at least just different.

The number of matters that I’m on is slooowly spiraling out of control, as I knew it would. But that’s not really the source of my angst. I could probably keep this level of activity up fairly well. I’m not the most junior person on most of my cases (woohoo!), which means that I can push work down a little. Awful, I know, since someone will be suffering for it, but I’m sticking to the party line, which is that we all have to eat our speck of dirt before we die. Aka, earn your stripes, blah blah. Anyway. More importantly, I think I have a better attitude towards work in general. Yes, it bogs me down and stresses me out, but at the same time, I’m just more matter of fact about my new reality, which is that I cannot work 20 hours out of 24. Not that it was ever reasonable to do so, but now, it’s frankly impossible. And while I’m probably jumping the gun here…it seems like it’s working out. I don’t know why. Maybe I’ve done enough to establish myself as good, hard worker, but it doesn’t seem like people are choked at my “working from home” and leaving early almost every day (and then of course putting in another 4+ hours from home after the baby goes to bed). Isn’t that sick, that that’s what it’s like when things are “good” at work?? But seriously. I’m stressed, and worried about what the next few weeks might bring, but I’m also just accepting that it is what it is and I will do what I can, when I can, and I just frankly can’t do more. 

But. It is still remarkably uncool that just at the time I decide to go back to work full-time, Josh’s job responsibilities have all of a sudden increased a thousandfold. I am muy unimpressed, like, actually irrationally angry. Not at him, although I’m nagging him about “pushing back.” Totally unfair, because he does, and it’s probably reflecting none to well on him. But that the hell? He’s gone from being out a couple nights a week to 3+, including travel, and now some weekends too. No, it hasn’t come down to a “your job or mine,” because as Josh likes to remind me, MY job can be done from home 99% of the time. Not that there are optics issues with leaving at 5:00 every day of course!

Perhaps naively, I didn’t really anticipate this type of situation. But it’s getting all of my type-A, feminist hackles up…because yes, I understand that it’s hard for him to tell his work to go to hell. BUT isn’t he implicitly telling ME that I have to tell MY work to go to hell? And no, I don’t want to play this card, but I make a lot more money! As in, it would be a lot more devastating to us if I were to lose my job. 

But more than that, the reason this can really even go on is that my work has been remarkably accommodating, as discussed above (even though I know it probably doesn’t sound like for people with more conventional jobs…) And his, well, let’s just say that when he told his boss he couldn’t be out every single next next week, his boss suggested he hire a babysitter. What. The. F. Dumbass, she’s already in daycare full time! I have no objection to hiring babysitters, of course, but that’s not a long-term solution. Even Josh suggested we get a nanny, which makes NO sense to me…unless he means let’s get TWO nannies, one to cover the day shift and the other to cover nights. Some people do it around these parts, but that’s where I draw my personal line. Maybe I had a baby because I’d like to see her for at least a couple of hours a day, assholes.

Thing is, this wouldn’t be such a disaster if we could just split the responsibilities roughly 50/50 as we had planned. But instead, as usual, the woman is expected to make the accommodations! Not by Josh, obviously, but his boss (also a father of small children) seems to think it’s totally fine for him to be out every single night. And yup, he’ll probably get what he wants because I am “allowed” to push back a little bit at work. Probably because I’m a woman and everyone “understands” about my family responsibilities. Well, what about HIS? Why is no one “understanding” about that? Because this child didn’t leap from his uterus?  Funny thing is that I am pretty certain that there’d be a pretty ugly poopstorm at my big, evil, soulless Wall Street law firm if someone callously suggested that I hire a babysitter. And rightfully so.

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