I was supposed to be off last Friday with J.
Even though I have oodles of comp time to burn, I had a lot I wanted to accomplish last week, so I opted to work 10+ hours Mon-Thu to get it all done. And then, of course, the sky fell down on Thursday, and my “just a couple hours” on Friday turned into “staying until 6:30 when normal, sane people are reeling from their happy hour buzz.”

Then my “just a couple of hours” Sunday afternoon turned into “I’ll still be home in time to cook dinner”, turned into, “I’ll be home before you go to bed.”

Meanwhile, J’s company is doing what they can to cut back, such that no one is allowed over 40 hrs/week, and they are forcing people to take vacation. He’s been home a lot more lately, and has (thankfully) picked up more household chores because of it.

J had class last night, so when he called me at work to ask if I’d still be able to make the long-promised Swedish meatballs for dinner or if we needed to make other plans, I assured him I could…and then suddenly it was 7 and I was still at work. I rushed home, and “it should only take about half an hour to throw together” turned into “coming out of the oven at 9 o’clock.

This prompted a discussion – I won’t say fight, because it really wasn’t – about my working so much lately. I said I thought J wasn’t being very supportive, and that I felt he didn’t think my work was as valuable because I don’t get paid overtime (except in extremely rare cases) for the long hours I work. I feel like he acts as though my working a lot has been an annoying inconvenience to him, because I’m not home to cook him dinner or to keep up with the cleaning as much, (not to mention the toll it’s taken on the sexy times [sorry, C]). He countered that he felt like he has been supportive, and that he doesn’t mind picking up the household stuff, but it’s that work has completely eaten my brain – even when I am home, my mind is elsewhere and I’m always on the computer answering work email.

And I had two revelations:

1. He’s right.
2. I am my father.

Sigh.