I was chatting with an older male colleague about being on sabbatical but feeling kind of frustrated because I’m spending time visiting my ill mother and talking to her every day on the phone. He said, “You don’t want to waste your sabbatical that way. Can’t you get out of all that?” I just looked at him for a couple of seconds, then said, “I could, if I’m willing to be a total jerk.”
I could go on about all this implies about world views, but maybe I’ll just let this speak for itself.
There is no milk for my cereal this morning. Two days ago, when there was no milk in the morning, my husband got his car stuck in the snowplow-created snow dam trying to get milk for me before I got up. (Yes, he is a sweetheart. But I’m OK, too. After we got him unstuck, I shoveled out the snow dam while he shopped.) Today there’s no snow dam in the driveway but he’s puttering in the basement and either did not notice the problem or thought I would not be up yet since I was working until 3 or decided I could live without my cereal this time. Why do we have a problem with such a simple thing as keeping milk in the frig, you say? The emptiness or fullness of our nest oscillates. Our adult children may or may not be in the house and, when around, may invite over a number of other people which, itself, is a random variate. The younger people often arrive and eat in the wee hours. We joke that we can’t go downstairs in our underwear at midnight because we might have unexpected company. It could be amusing to try to model the fluctuations. But first I’ll fix peanut butter toast.
Just thought those of you with little children might want to know what you can look forward to. (For the record, yes it is much less work and yes we are glad our offspring feel comfortable about inviting their friends to hang out here. Peanut butter toast is a small price to pay, although I’d still rather have my cereal.)