4:53am: Alarm buzzes again. I slap it harder and push it off the nightstand.
5:00am: I get up to retrieve thrown beeping alarm clock and stumble out of bed, hating my husband for being able to blissfully slumber for 2 more hours than me and wondering if the fact that I went to sleep with wet hair means I’m going to look like Rhea Perlman. Again.
5:01am: Dress for work, thanking my lucky stars that nurses get to wear forgiving scrubs since I ate 2 cheese and sriracha sandwiches, a pickle, and 6.5 oreos before bed last night and am currently sporting a muffin top
5:30am: Leave for work. Immediately turn into crazed Frederick-to-Washington DC via MoCo/270 commuter who tailgates scared and cautious drivers who have hesitantly taken 270 to get to their 7am dental appointment on the WRONG morning buddy!
7am: Arrive to work. Find 200 emails in my inbox, 2 voicemails with nurses calling out sick for that Friday night, a complaint from a patient about the food, and am asked to confront a sadly misguided surgical resident who showed up to round on patients….In his stained undershirt….With his tight, curly chest hair on full display. This carefree gentleman apparently decided to forgo his SHIRT on this fine morning.
8am: I confront the misguided-but-well-intentioned-doc. Haunted by visions of tiny curly hairs scattered over my conference room table from the aforementioned underclothed-and-NOT-Ryan-Gosling-doc, I clorox it and head out to a meeting
10am: Working on fixing the staffing for that night and the weekend. Make 27 phone calls and leave 27 voicemail messages. By the 26th one I have forgotten who I’ve called, and when the voicemail picks up, I feebly ask “who it is I’m trying to call, please call me back?”
11am: Probably because they have sympathy for me after hearing my rambling, disjointed message, a staff nurse finally calls me back and agrees to work that night….IF I take her off the schedule on Sunday
1pm: Realize I haven’t eaten breakfast or lunch, so grab my lunch, which is leftover spaghetti, only to find that our microwave is broken. I eat it cold.
1:05pm: One of my staff goes home sick, so I take a patient who is having explosive diarrhea, and, evidently, had corn recently. Juggle cleaning this up while patiently answering the same questions over and over from my patient’s sweet husband and while trying to dodge the hairy resident from this morning
3:30pm: Leave work. Drive home. Enter crazed 270 DC-to-Frederick commuter route. Question my sanity
4:30pm: Receive exuberant greetings from my 3 yr old and 5 yr old, who immediately demand that I play with them, and then start mildly squabbling over who gets to sit next to Mommy. I smile proudly, warmed by their obvious love for me.
4:31pm: Oops. The 3 yr old “wins” me, after a vicious pinch to his sister’s arm. While I’m pondering whether or not I should punish him, because, after all, they were fighting over ME, me, my 5 yr old daughter scratches him in retaliation and I figure the universe sort of just handled the situation. I sneak away to take a shower.
5pm: Start dinner. Receive “Help” from kids in the form of fighting over the stepstool and brandishing butter knives at each other. Momentarily wonder if I’m raising them right because they JUST.WON’T.SHARE!! Oh, and they brandish butter knives too.
6pm: Dinner over, kitchen cleaned, homework started. Seriously, TWO sheets of paper with kindergarten homework takes 30 minutes b/c my daughter insists on her pencil being sharpened after every. single. word. F.M.L.
7pm: Bathtime. Consists of me pointing a shower head nozzle at them after scrubbing off the most visible dirt, and assembly- line- style getting them dressed with hubby’s help
7:30pm: story/bed. Receive sweet kisses and requests for one more song. Plant my butt on the couch to watch DVR’d secret obsession, “Hoarders” but after watching for 5 min, I am possessed with an immediate need to go and run on the treadmill and then intensely clean my living room.
9pm: I picture all of my wonderful running mama friends, and dig deep to get it done. Sweating and slightly less motivated to clean, I shower and eat a cheese and sriracha sandwich. And possibly a few oreos. Thank God for surgical scrubs
10pm: Fall into bed. Alarm set. Snuggle with hubby while calculating how many hours until the alarm clock goes off again and wondering if I can fit in some facebook time.
I NEED A NIGHT OUT!