1

It’s 8:15 pm on a dreary, cold February evening and I’m beat, in bed with Murder in the City, a one-season BBC murder mystery, but it has Kris Marshall in it, so of course I watch. I feel a little guilty. I don’t particularly want to watch the show. I want to, dare I tell you, turn off the light, close my eyes and sleep. I’m exhausted and tomorrow’s another full day and OMG, it’s just 8:15 pm, how can I be so tired, what’s wrong with me?

2

It’s not quite 6:30 am on that same dreary, cold February day and my alarm’s about to go off but I’m already awake. I give myself 15 minutes of think in bed time, then roll out of it. I’m logged onto my work computer by 7:01 and answering my first Teams ping by 7:02.

I step away from my computer at 7:45 to make a scrambled eggs and cheese burrito for the giant teenager lumbering down the stairs. He inhales the food while I review a script for one thing, prep a pitch for another, do a bit of back and forth with the translator of another thing, and open the document for the thing that I’m 100% supposed to focus on today.

“Mom? Ready?”

It’s -100 degrees outside, so I drive the child to school. We leave at 8:30 am, he’s at the school door before quarter to — the ride usually takes five or six minutes but there’s a lot of snow. I’m back at my computer by 9:15, cafe latte in hand because, did I mention, it’s a dreary, cold February day, and sometimes, happiness comes in a cup?

3

It’s coming up on 1 pm and I realize I haven’t exactly eaten. I’ve been working in a fairly decent state of flow so I’m not sure. I must have eaten something, surely — the latte had full fat milk in it, so that’s something, right? — and oh, evidence in the sink, a dirty dish, but also, I’m starving. 

I eat.

And back to computer — I ache now, shoulders and back, so I lie down on the bed and work in a horizontal position. The brain is getting dumber but I’m only now getting to the thing that I 100% must achieve today and I need to wrap work by 3 pm… I hurry.

3

It’s 3 pm and I accept that I will not finish the thing I 100% need to achieve today although I’ve made some progress on it — and moved a dozen other things along — but I didn’t do the thing, so I’m dissatisfied. But. It’s 5 pm in Toronto and I’ve been working since 9 am Eastern Time, so I make myself put the laptop away — I manage to do it by about 3:20, whoo hoo — and make a ham and cheese and hot banana pepper bagel.

Not for me. For the giant man-child.

4

By 3:45 pm — it is such a dreary, cold February day but at least it’s not dark — I’m in front of the school. Child clambers into the car.

“Food!” He eats while I drive across the city to the math tutor’s. We’re making great time, so we stop at the south Goodwill for a five minute “do they have sports jerseys” here check. They do. We leave $20 poorer.

Child devours bagel and potato chips provided by considerate mother but is still starving so we stop at a bakery to get him a cookie. Two cookies. Two very large cookies.

He is a very large man child.

5

Between 5 and 6 pm, I sit in the corner of a pristine kitchen in a comfortable chair and write while the child maths. The math tutor is very good at his job and the child enjoys the sessions. I enjoy the hour with my notebook.

The kitchen, however, while pristine, today has a distinct cat pee smell. I don’t see a cat. I don’t comment on it.

6

The roads are shit but traffic is light, and we’re home by 6:20 pm. I’m super organized and supper things are all prepped, only re-heating required, so we’re eating in 15 minutes. By 7 pm, we’re both fed and I’ve loaded the dishwasher.

And OMG, I’m so tired, I think I could fall asleep standing up.

I exercise instead.

7

By 7:30 pm, I’ve done my 22 minutes of injured Russian ballerina exercises (she’s actually a Canadian ballerina but I like saying injured Russian ballerina more) and I’m in a hot bath with my phone and laptop. I Duolingo and watch an episode of Murder in the City.

And, we’re where we’ve begun.

8

It’s actually 8:38 p.m. now, because I’ve ben writing for about 20 minutes. I’m pleased. At this rate, I’ll likely be semi-awake at 9 pm and, you know, when you wake up by 6 am, a 9 pm bedtime is what you should be aiming for, right? Right. I’m actually a very responsible, self-aware adult who values her sleep, not a pathetic energy-less dishrag with no life.

I’ve had a very full day. Work happened, and I actually feel good about most of what I did today — except not finishing that thing that I 100% meant to accomplish, but, there’s tomorrow still. Feeding the child happened. Driving the child to school happened. Driving the child to the tutor (and back) during rush hour happened. Feeding the child (and self) a really delicious supper happened.

Hell, exercise and bath and writing all happened too.

Also, at some point, I cleaned the cat’s litter box. And unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. 

I pretty much killed it today.

Whoop.

9

It’s 8:43 am and I have no guilt about feeling exhausted and ready to sleep.

Good night.

xoxo

“Jane”