I don't do it all, so I don't have it all. Oh well.
Alternate title: public shaming, home office edition.
This is more like the secret shames that occur in the privacy of one's home office/living room. I really wish I had an office at school. This was one of my recommendations to Legal Theory Prof for making his school's VAP more attractive. And yet, can I just say, I'm glad that I don't have a job that requires immense amounts of face time, as if logging hours were the best measure of productivity. I am glad to be in a field where you can work from home, and have a flexible schedule.
But that's not to say I work from home particularly well (or at least, with dignity), or that I cope with the two worker-partnership thing all that well. I get exasperated during the crunch time, and no less exasperated when he has to work late too. When we are both working late, it's a lot of take out, which bugs me--although I don't know why. Damned persistence of gender stereotypes.
I'll start. Then it's your turn.
- My socks are mismatched (one bright blue, one green with pink stripes) and I'm wearing men's pajama bottoms with my law school t-shirt, and it's 2:30 in the afternoon. I don't care. I'm reading about the second shift of work. Working on a Sunday makes you want to redefine what work means, or at least its uniform. Right now, I think that this is pretty awesome.
- I eat ice cream straight out of the carton, and usually one of two flavors: Cherry Garcia and Vanilla Heath Bar Crunch.
- I do maudlin things like make his picture my cellphone/desktop wallpaper when we're apart, and then change it back when I see him again so that he doesn't notice me being this schmaltzy. You know, after a whole week apart. I hate being "That Girl", but yet I am. But it does make my work a little happier to have a happy memory for my wallpaper.
- I currently have four novels that I'm reading in various stages of completion. I do not anticipate finishing them any time soon.
- I eat cold pasta. Also, pizza. Reheating is for soup and Chinese food. This is very weird, yes.
- At this point, I have knitted a potholder, and I cannot give you a projected completion date for what will be a scarflet.
- My bed has been unmade for five days, an all time record. I kind of hate this.
- I cooked for the first time in half a week on Saturday (cumin-coriander encrusted pork chops and mashed yukon gold potatoes), and only because I was out of leftovers and getting sick of cereal. This is why I like to have people to cook for. Although I don't know why I am so lazy when cooking just for myself, when I know plenty of others who go all out to give themselves gourmet experiences. Somehow, in my head, dinner is something that's best shared with a loved one.
Well, obviously, left to my own devices, and in particularly time compressed periods of life, I don't do it all. No perfect house, career, family, consumerist habits. I should mention that the pajamas are from Old Navy and the socks are from Costco, and I have totally lost their partners in the Great Laundry Accident of 2007. TD has been away for a week, we don't have kids, and so right now, I don't have to have it all, and I don't want it all.
I'm pretty happy working on my own thing, and having a supportive (but also time crunched) partner, and being a schlubby grad student. I imagine, when I am in a position of some professional significance, I will want to strive for perfection in all areas of my life. Or maybe, I will just cut myself a break, and realize that working on a sunny Sunday is an achievement in itself, and so who cares that there's dishes in the sink or mismatched socks on my feet. And I would hope that I would value spending time with my partner and children more than I value the perfect Pottery Barned-out, immaculately kept home.
You can't have it all. But why would you want it all? That's a lot of stuff, man. Not only does my work argue for a different conception of "work," but I hope to one day write an article about how we should restructure our idea of family and household obligations--at least, to be less gendered. I have a hard time getting out of that (I feel bad when dinner is late or "off" because I was so busy trying to do work and cook at the same time the potatoes were undercooked), but I am starting to cut myself a break.