Dog Day Afternoons

It’s 2:00PM and I haven’t showered. I’m the drop-off parent, so if that process takes longer than usual, I miss my chance to shower until lunch. But today’s lunch hour was used to do the mountain of laundry from vacation and clean up Sloane’s room. So here I am — unshowered, trying to carve out 20-minutes to wash my hair in between Zoom calls.

Working remote is a special kind of hell for me. I am not intrinsically motivated. Keeping myself on task, especially when I can see the sink full of dishes and the slightly chunky dog who needs a walk is difficult. But here I am trying to care about the funding for the State Patrol’s toxicology lab when all I want to do is tend to the pile of unopened PR packages stacked by the door.

Focus, Abra, focus.

Of course, the puppy chooses this moment to begin nibbling my slipper.

Focus.

I drink my comically large Starbucks iced tea, my chosen emotional support beverage, and put on my blue light glasses. Maybe it’s the placebo effect, but they do seem to help my eye strain. And when you look at a screen 12-15 hours per day, your eyes can use all the help they can get.

Kyle strolls into the room with the casual air of a man who has can think about nothing but his job. He’s excellent at working from home, except that he misses having co-workers, and will sometimes drift into my workspace when he needs human interaction. I do not need human interaction. I need someone to do those dishes. Sensing a request coming. He notices a yellow spot forming on the lawn and heads outside to investigate. Who needs a hobby when there is grass to tend to? Apparently, the ants are back.

I miss renting.

I finally finish the research memo that’s been vexing me for two days and run to the bathroom for the world’s fastest shower. At least my shampoo smells nice. I do not have time to shave my legs, but my underarms can’t wait another day unless I want to give up entirely. This mini-razor is the best, luckily, Costco carries the blades now. I never understood why all of my female friends were obsessed with Costco until I had a child — apple juice in bulk is just too good of a deal to pass up.

My alarm goes off and I leap from the shower. I have 11 minutes to blow-dry my hair, roll it up in curlers, apply makeup and change clothes. Will I make it? No, I will have to cut the makeup down to cc cream, under-eye corrector and eyebrow pencil. If I put on the blue light glasses for my next Zoom call, you won’t be able to tell.

Also, this dress is the best thing that I bought this summer. I own it in three colors. It’s like pajamas for daytime, but people always tell me how nice it looks. A win.

I’m back at my computer within 20-minutes explaining the intricacies of the Fourth Amendment when the UPS guy has the temerity to ring the doorbell. The dogs are now involved; I slam on the mute button to silence the din. Did I mention that I hate working from home?

Stella returns to the room, looking for praise. She did just save me from being murdered by the delivery man after all. Pippa isn’t sure what she did, but it’s hard to ignore a six-pound puppy.

I need this meeting to wrap so I can go pickup Sloane from school. She got moved into the big kid class and comes home every day dirtier and more emotional than I ever thought possible. I’ll need to bring fresh shoes and socks because hers will be caked in mud. I’ll also need to bring a snack to calm the Hangry Fournado. She will tell me how disgusting it is, and then, after a few minutes, beg me to open it before devouring it with the voracity of a Great White let loose on a colony of seals. Disgusting, indeed.

My call ends. I send one quick Teams message as follow up, and run for the door. Maybe, if I’m lucky, we’ll make it to the pool before it closes. It is summer after all, and I’m trying to be fun Mom this summer.

Trying.

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