This morning the alarm clock went off for the first time in months. I'm still working my leisurely part-time schedule at the job I was supposedly laid-off from six months ago, but Leslie (my wife) returned to work today.
Leslie's a teacher, and her summer reprieve ended about an hour ago. The kids don't return until Thursday, but today begins three days of meetings and preparation. She has a new principal to meet today, as well, and getting a new boss is always an ominous occasion.
Needless to say, with getting things ready, the heat wave, and anxiety over having to return to work, she (and therefore I) haven't gotten much sleep the past few nights. Which, of course, made the alarm all the more jarringly symbolic of the loss of freedom that returning to work means for her.
For me, it means a little more freedom and the loss of a major excuse for not writing more. I'm still without full-time employment and I now have the house to myself for much of the day without her to blame for the distractions that keep me from my writing. It's time for me to get back to work, too.