i worked a whopping 62 hour week. i practically work as much as the President.
but it's good. it's ok. because i like clothes.
on friday night i babysat and JJ came over after the kiddles were (supposed to be) in bed, and baby P was playing on the ground with some toys. S was out cold, but just as soon as JJ walked in, baby P cried to be held, and M creeped out of bed. i put the baby in JJ's arms and escorted M back to bed, as she peered beneath her lashes and giggled at JJ. (looks like i need to up my game, eh?) after i tucked M into bed and gave her one last kiss on the cheek, i noticed how silent it was. and i became suspicious of the silence.
i walked down the stairs, and there they were. JJ holding baby P not close to his chest, but away from his body. like he didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want barf (i don't care what they say, i don't call it "spit-up." if it comes up after a meal and out of your mouth, then it's most definitely barf) on his shirt either. he was looking at her, and baby P was just staring back at him. wide eyed and completely in a trance. i cleared my throat and said, "excuse me, am i interrupting?" JJ exhaled gratefully as he handed the babe back to me. "she is just so....mini," he said. "yes, she is, and isn't she just---" interrupted by barf on my neck.
saturday morning i went to work and read about 200 pages. that's it.
then later that night i babysat as well. we watched Bee Movie and right at the part when Barry and Vanessa go to the pasadena parade of roses, i started to get sleepy. then M wanted me to lay in her bed with her until she fell asleep, and so i read my book and started to nod off. after sneaking out of her room, i went downstairs to get a glass of water to wake up and started reading again.
the next thing i know, the parents are walking through the door. i had fallen asleep, straight and stiff under a blanket, with my hands folded peacefully across my chest, my book splayed out on my lap. i probably looked like a vampire taking a nap. i had one eye opened with a sheepish still-dreaming grin as they handed me payment, and home i went. suppose i was a tad tired?
you all know exactly how my day at work on sunday went.
and when i got home i slipped into my "time flies when you're having rum" pirate t-shirt and spent the better part of the afternoon watching movies and ordering JJ around. you see, i decided to groom Cleo. i cut out all of her knots and it was JJ's job to keep the dog from biting me, as well as transferring the removed knots to the trash.
i never stop working. and i can't quite figure out if i am a workaholic. does it count as work when i read for my entire shift? or if i fall asleep on my employers' couch? or if i spend over 2 hours beautifying the dog?