On an impromptu department lunch telephone this past week, my colleagues were discussing the books they’ve been reading and also the shows they’ve now been watching on television.
I’d like nothing to add to the dialog. Zero. Zilch. Why do you ask? Don’t you see for leisure? Don’t you decompress with eye candies on television? In all honesty, I can not remember the last time I binge-watched a show or had a few uninterrupted hours to read a novel.
I have heaps of partially completed knitting projects in my closet and too many house projects to list.
For legal counsel, I am utilized to keeping track of personal time. Here’s an example of my normal day working at a house with three kids throughout the pandemic.
5:45 a.m. awaken. Say hello and goodbye to your husband to your afternoon as I walk out the door to visit the fitness center, and he prepares to depart go teach high school.
6:15 a.m. Work out (check email when heating upon treadmill). Set PR on deadlift (185)!
7:25 a.m. Arrive home. Check email. Confirm 16-year-old daughter has packed a lunch and water jar before ushering out her door for school at 7:40 a.m. Put dinner (planned on Sunday) into the crockpot and just forget about this. Yet another text from mom (“Looking for Christmas presents for your kids!”)
7:50 a.m. Encourage my 13-year-old daughter along with my 9-year-old son to eat breakfast while I catch a quick shower.
8:30 a.m. Place birthday card to a buddy in the mail (hooray for remembering). Produce a cup of coffee. Take a seat to just work at the dining table. Force 9-year-old to sit down with me to help minimize distractions. Remind 13-year-old to not interrogate and to pay attention throughout her zoom calls. Mom, look how cute your dog is! Mom, what exactly does this mean? Mom, I really don’t know what I am likely to accomplish! Mom! Mom! Mom!” Breathe. Revise a rental amendment.
9:50 am. 13-year-old is jumping around doing fitness class warmups in the livingroom. The dog starts barking incessantly. Dog plainly must go out. Argue with kids over whose turn it is to simply take out a dog. Remind 9-year-old to do asynchronous gym class (assumed to be 20 minutes of soccer drills). He wishes to accomplish this with a buddy. Text buddy mom, invite a friend over for outdoor, socially distanced gym class soccer drills—Witness child and buddy cycling in circles around the back yard.
9:55 a.m. Revise a sale and purchase agreement. Send client comments and directions on another purchase and purchase agreement. Begin to review a zoning ordinance for a coming redevelopment submittal.
10:55 a.m. see that the load of laundry I conducted overnight using the delay setting was done around four weeks past. Throw a load of laundry from the dryer. Throw a frozen pizza in the oven for lunch.
11:00 a.m. Send mails. Call with a paralegal seeing a title and survey matter.
11:20 a.m. allows kids to consume lunch.
11:22 a.m. Review and react to emails. Remind kids to consume lunch.
(Thank goodness that the dog is currently asleep.)
12:28 p.m. Kiss 13-year-old along with 9-year-old goodbye and wish them a harmless walk/bike ride to school to their hybrid times of 12:47 and 1:00, respectively (which can be an hour earlier on Wednesdays, as if this is simply not hard enough to keep tabs on ).
12:30 p.m. Breathe in the blissful silence. Walk-in kitchen to make a cup of green tea. Not ice sink overflowing with dirty dishes. Open the dishwasher to set the dirty dishes in it and realize the dishwasher was full of clean dishes out of dinner last night. Unload the dishwasher, reload the dishwasher. Eat lunch while catching up on emails.
12:45 p.m. sit down to work.
12:49 p.m. Receive telephone from the nurse at son’s school. I forgot to publish the daily Covid self-certification form online (again). Submit the forms for the two younger kids before I get a similar call from the high nurse.
12:50 — 2:45 p.m. Calls, drafting, work, texts, emails. Yes!! Almost two consecutive hours of work!
2:45 p.m. 16-year-old yields from faculty and interrupts the silence. We talk her afternoon and the latest election news.
3:00 p.m. Sit down to work. Text in mom (“Looking for Christmas gifts for the kids!”)
The noise is dwelling.
3:50 p.m. 13-year-old returns. More noise. Remind 16-year-old to leave to her sports class at the gym at 4:00.
4:00 p.m. Invite children to visit the park to benefit from the gorgeous, unusually hot November day. Children park themselves on couches to play Minecraft along with Fortnite. Argue with children on whose turn it would be to take the dog out.
4:05 p.m. Produce a cup of java. It’s a little late in the day for coffee, but such is life. Escape back into my”real” office upstairs—Express silent gratitude for with an office upstairs.
5:05 p.m. Husband returns from work. We have been two ships passing in the evening time. We talk exactly what time the 13-year-old’s basketball clinic starts yelling. Go back to get the job done.
7:00 p.m. Require a break from work to have dinner with a 16-year-old along with a 9-year-old—Express silent gratitude to your crockpot. After dinner, we clean the kitchen and then walk the dog. Then I sit back down to keep on working while the 9-year-old returns into the Xbox and the 16-year-old will her homework.
All of us say hello, and that I help them find dinner. I invite the 9-year-old to bring a shower. I remind him more times during another 35 minutes.
9:25 p.m. 9-year-old is finally out of this shower. I remind him to brush his teeth again. I tuck him and kiss him goodnight. The 13-year-old sets herself to bed. I come back to work on the dining table with a 16-year-old.
11:30 p.m. I’m unsuccessfully trying to keep alert so that my 16-year-old daughter and I can”do our homework together” and retreat upstairs at about the exact same moment. When we get to a stopping point, we, mind up. I realize I forgot to respond to mom’s text. Bleary-eyed, I text mom: “gasoline gift cards such as CC, Lego Avengers for AJ, Xbox cans for CJ.” Collapse into bed and ruminate for 30minutes while attempting to see a publication to settle my head.
1.5 hours ingestion; 0.5-hour wrangling children to walk in a dog; 0.75-hour household chores; 0.5-hour talks with the household; 1.5 hours and from the gym and working outside; 0.75-hour shower/get ready for that day; 2 hours of absurd interruptions; and obviously, all those billable hours…