Getting Back Into the Swing of Things

Friday, I began working again. It's a job that looks very interesting. Fun coworkers. Training, depending on traffic, is 30 to 45 minutes from home. Weird, considering everyone lives near me, but hey, I don't make the rules (or pay the mileage).

Today, the boss said no overtime, which meant that we should have left at 4:15. Works for me, I had to drive home, grab the boys, then drive another 30 miles to Chef's Cub Scout meeting. I wasn't sweating things, because I walked in the front door Friday afternoon at 5:35. Plenty of time to go get the kids from the friend's house, go home, change, grab a snack and then be on the road. Make or break to be at scouts on time is to be starting the car at 6:15.

4:35 rolls around and we're still working. I'm getting a bit antsy, but not too bad. 4:50, done with that section-but the trainer starts ANOTHER one that he says will take about 45 minutes. OH NO!!!!! I can see the look on the faces of the two people flanking me-they had that same panicked "We were HOME before 6 Friday and I made plans for my real estate appointment/day care/whatever based on the fact that Friday included one hour of overtime!" look.

You know the look, right? Most days, I'm the type who doesn't mind sticking around until the job gets done (much to Ed's consternation). I'm used to having those looks and the "Oh please, oh please, won't YOU stick around so I don't have to?" type directed at me. Yep, I'm dedicated. Or a sucker. Probably both.

So, it's 5:15, we're still working on this unit and I'm slowly freaking inside and my phone chirps that I've got a message, kicking up the frenzy another notch. How the heck am I going to get to Lakeland, get the food, gas and the kids and make it to Scouts by 7pm? Anyone?

It's 5:30. We're at the end of the unit. I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, I might get to the neighbor's by 6pm and out the door by 6:10. Then he says "Next unit is 45 minutes long, I think we can bang it out in less than that."

Inwardly, I'm screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOOOOOOO!
You might have heard it, on a subconscious level. I'm thinking all the moms on a tight schedule shuddered at 5:32 and didn't know why. It was me. Sorry.

The guy next to me looks stricken (real estate appointment) and I mutter "so much for my son's pack meeting". Fate smiles on us in the guise of the head boss, who says that he's pretty sure we've got places to go, things to do and people to see. Can I tell you I wanted to bow down to him right then?

Out the door I went (shut up bladder, you'll have to take a ticket and stand in line). Somehow, I pulled into our community at 6:05, got back to our house at 6:12 and got on the road at 6:19-and still made it to scouts with five minutes to spare. Without speeding. Well, no more than 5 miles over the limit.

Please don't ask me to do it again next week. There was so much gray that erupted this afternoon that I had to resort to coloring my hair tonight!

So, yeah, we're back in a routine. Routine insanity, don't you think?

(For the record, the bosses are very cool-I really don't think one of them was really thinking through what time it was, though!)