I had no idea it was a holiday weekend. Seriously, NO CLUE. Someone said something the other day about going to the Balloon Classic this weekend and I thought, "Huh? That's not until Labor Day, what a crack head!". Okay, I didn't think crack head, more along the lines of "crazy confused person lost in time", but crack head is more concise.
Turns out I am the crack head (see definition above). Labor Day weekend? How did that happen? Lately we've been caught up in a blurry ribbon of time passing, disjointed, with no clear separations between days. Kurt has been working overtime and when he's not working overtime, he's thinking about work and when he's not thinking about work he's trying to sleep through work-inspired insomnia. It's not a good place to be.
Sometimes I just don't understand this whole corporate thing-- I mean, working your staff into the ground to the point they spontaneously combust and leave nothing but a pile of ashes where a once whole and productive human being lived? How is that going to improve your bottom line? By the time you're ready to send in the numbers, the office building will be an empty, ashy graveyard like something out of The Road.
Needless to say, when he's so overwhelmed and exhausted, I am overwhelmed and exhausted, too. His extra hours equal extra hours for me, too, but with one critical difference. I can take breaks. I can go outside and walk or distract my "projects" with the lure of swing sets and Little Einsteins. I have no looming deadlines other than meals, baths and bed time. The kids go to school a few times a week which leaves me with plenty of time to work on the minutia that piles up. He has to let his accumulate, unattended, until it finally drops like a cartoon piano on his head.
So, it's Labor Day weekend. A holiday. I'll get the house ready for a relaxing weekend, clearing away chores and stocking up groceries. Maybe we can just settle in and take deep breaths for 72 hours straight. Perhaps there will be french toast and mountain vistas. Or even mini golf. Please join me in a united prayer than Kurt can dodge the piano, send his project to it's room for time out and finally get a good night's sleep. The guy deserves better than this. Amen.