She Works Hard for the Money...(or not)

Twice a year, I change jobs. I know, I know, it sounds fickle and irresponsible, like something I should have outgrown in my misspent youth, but it's really not my fault. Since I work at a college, I follow the semester schedule. What this means for me is that when classes end this week, I will leave the Professional World for a while and return to my regular full-time gig, as Commander in Chief...of my family.

I enjoy both parts of my Working Life, but it always takes me some time to adjust to the differences in my routine when I switch back and forth. During semester breaks, I no longer stand in front of my closet in the morning, selecting a carefully-coordinated outfit with matching accessories. (Oh, let's be brutally honest: when I'm not preparing for my place-of-gainful-employment, I toss on jeans and a sweatshirt, or shorts and a t-shirt, and call it my "ensemble" for the day.) For my Household Manager position, I tend to go light on the makeup (often dabbing on just enough to not be mistaken for a Suburban Zombie Mom at Giant). My "commute" changes from a continuous, semi-trafficky, 20-minute (give or take a few stoplights) stint...to a stop-and-go affair (Drive to CVS: stop. Continue to Costco: stop. On to the Library: stop. Etc, etc.) When I arrive at my workplace, I get to converse uninterrupted with my co-workers...like a real Adult! About all kinds of things that may not be appropriate for tender young ears (you know what I'm talking about: movies that don't revolve around animated creatures! restaurants without mac and cheese on the menu! Bonus: I don't have to manage my colleagues' behavior, or check their homework, or pack their lunches! No one--usually--talks back to me; and--generally--there's no whining! It's blissful, I tell you.)

Then, of course, you have the major discrepancies in schedule and salary. I report to my outside-the-house job at specific hours, complete my duties, then leave. We don't really need to get into detail about the time requirements for the Mom Corps. But the real kicker is: only my "real job" provides a salary. Even if there was some kind of awesome Union of Licensed Professional Caregivers* that simply compensated me for the parts I don't like, I'd make a boatload of money billing for laundry services...and meal preparation...and grocery shopping...(*ULPC--someone get busy right away and set that up, will you? I'm not even kidding!)

So, next week if you see me out-and-about, looking pale, sporting ponytail-hair, wearing a tracksuit and sneakers, muttering to myself about needing to run to the craft store for supplies for my son's upcoming Social Studies project, please stop me and engage in a few minutes of grown-up interaction. I will be very grateful. And be sure to leave me an application for the ULPC!