2016

In six months, Hadley will start pre-school.  Which means that, for TWO WHOLE glorious days a week, I will have two hours and ten minutes all to myself.  I know what you're thinking, and considering that I think of taking my kids to Parents Day Out so I can go get a pap smear a vacation, you bet your ass I'm counting those ten minutes.

That means that for the next two years after that I'll have three mornings a week to myself, and in 2016... five. 

Hang on.  I need to go change my underwear.

I actually had to sketch that out to make it work in my brain, by the way.

I feel like we're on the uphill swing; the fog is starting to lift.  I knew eventually the day would come when I would have some time to myself; it just always seemed so far away.  And the question on everyone's (Nick's) mind is, "What are you going to do?" 

I'm a planner, so I've really started to give this some serious thought.  Go back to working at an ad agency?  Teach a couple of days a week?  Volunteer?  Finish my (now dusty and probably irrelevant) novel?  Take the day shift over at Diamond Cabaret? 

And the answer is:  I don't know yet what the long term will hold.  However, according to my calculations, if the average employee gets four weeks of vacation for working 40 hours a week, and I've been working 24/7 for four years, then I'll be entitled to roughly fifty years of vacation.  But I'll settle for six months off before I have to make a decision about my life's direction. 

In excited anticipation, I've started making a list of things I'm going to do in 2016, on my six month sabbatical from reality. 

So far I've got:

1.  Take banjo lessons
2.  Learn how to do a back spin

It's really a work in progress.