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My Job

 My daydream of returning to work involved Julianna Margulies, in "The Good Wife." I would be in expensive suits, squaring off against Renee Elise Goldsberry and Martha Plimpton.


Instead, my workplace is called a "shack"--that's actually how the company has branded itself--and I tend to get text messages about an overflowing toilet, a need to deodorize "tutor spaces" after one or two hours of "instructional use."

My spouse is sometimes in a slightly combative mood...when I come home. We are dividing labor in a generally graceful way, I think, but it can be hard not to "hoard free minutes," those minutes in which you're enjoying an empty car, an absence of shrieking. (Most recently, my daughter had a tantrum because I wouldn't immediately pull over, put on the brake, and adjust her stuffed dog so that its tummy was fully shielded by the car-seat straps, because a hypothetical car accident might endanger the welfare of this tiny, soiled wad of cotton.)

Anyway, it's a start.
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