on the hamster-wheel

I’m almost delirious about the prospect of having tomorrow off from the bank; I don’t know what I’ll do with myself! Actually that’s not true. I’ll do the Long Trek with Alice, clean up the apartment some, work on the Secret Plans for the Amazing Desk and the less-secret house-quilt, go to Borders (hello, Professor Lockhart!), do a little yoga, make something great for dinner….and bemoan the fact that next week I don’t get a day off at all. Stupid bank is making us all take a four-hour training class that just happens to fall on Thursday, so I’ll have to cover in the bank while half the staff takes the course, and then take it myself from 4 till 8. They will fix it so there’s no overtime either, which would at least make it worthwhile. I wouldn’t mind so much except that it’s actually a re-training course so they’re just telling us stuff we already know, not teaching us anything new. I like learning new stuff, even if it is just for work. I was just starting to get used to this full-time, two-days-off-a-week schedule to the point where I expected to only work five days, which is funny because for the first eight months with the bank, I worked every day but Sunday every week.
I realized that to build this desk, I need to buy a 4’x8’ sheet of plywood and have it cut to dimensions in the store because it won’t fit in my car whole and also because I’m not sure D’s saws can make really big cuts like that. So I have to know the exact dimensions for each piece before I get to the store. I hope I’m not getting in over my head here—those Home Depot guys can be so patronizing. Or, I’m just extra-defensive and under-confident and they’re just being nice. Cooking is so much easier…just throw it together and if it doesn’t work out, toss it. People don’t understand that there is no difference between being a good cook and otherwise. I always hear, “oh, I tried to make _____, but it turned out awful. I can’t cook at all.” Well, I’ve ruined pretty much every recipe in the book; you just have to start over, try again, practice.
Came home tonight to find D already making dinner—burgers. Wow-two nights in a row! I suddenly realize how good men have had it for all those decades (like the fifties) when they go off to work, come home, and eat dinner. Like all they have to do is work and everything else in life (food, kids, housework, shopping, laundry) just falls into place around him. So what happens when two people share all of the above but both work? D and I need a wife!