What I miss about my workforce days.

I could get up and get ready before I started work. I could arrive showered and dressed and exercised, and have time to eat breakfast.

My bosses didn’t barge in on me in the shower demanding I fix something now.

No one followed me to the bathroom pulling on my skirt and screaming.

I could eat my lunch in silence if I wanted and completely alone. No one demanded I get up and work again 10 seconds after I started to eat.

My old bosses didn’t demand I get out of my bed in the middle of the night to wait on them hand and foot.

There was a janitor who had to deal with spills and vomit and pee should it occur.

If I had to work overtime I wasn’t scheduled to work again 3 hours after my shift had ended.

I got scheduled shifts.

I got time off.

I slept in on Saturdays.

I didn’t have 3 people screaming at me all at the same time while I was trying to deal with an important phone call and someone at the door and make lunch.

Sleep.

Grown up conversations.

Pretty clothes: that were clean and free of slobber, snot trails, baby puke, milk leaks, food stains, dirty hand prints, and were size 4.

Oh well, those jobs all sucked anyway, and I have this strange intense love for the new tyrants in my life that makes most of my days good ones, in spite of the screaming.