Working my socks off

Apologies to my regulars for the lack of post last week
Suffice to say I've been working like a proverbial...well...um...working mother - that's it.
I've come to the conclusion that despite taking a huge paycut, and technically working four days a week, I am increasingly fitting 5 days work into four, and picking up things during my little one's naps on my day off. And. I think I'm being ripped off. And, every other mid management level working mum I know, suffers from the same kind of problem.

I think we work our arses off, because we, somewhere, subconsciously feel like we have to a)show our dedication now we've diluted our devotion by procreating b) 'apologise' for not being as flexible as the rest of the workforce c)give endless thanks in the form of hardcore work for the small crumbs of flexibility we have been able to scrape off the negotiating room floor.

Last week, every spare hour was invested in either writing or thinking...that means evenings after dinner, taking the longer stopper train in to work to give more time and space to think, and, of course working the weekend. I skipped lunch everyday (not good since I am still b-feeding my babe) and by the end of the week looked yellow, sallow and haggard.

Now some might say that this is the price to pay for being able to have my day off, but I don't think it's right. If they wanted to pay me the same and do a kind of 'compressed hours' thing then fine...but like this....ummmm.....no thanks.

ON A GREEN NOTE
the garden is looking great - the beds are starting to fill out, and mix together...
and as if by design my st swithen's rose is just about to bloom, just around the time of St Swithen's day...

Photos, or some other kind of more multimedia post tomorrow.

Gosh, dear blog, I have missed you

xxx