Working from home.
In the summer.
With three young, school-aged children in the house.
Is making me crazy.
Snacks, oh the requests for snacks. Non-stop, thanks to their school year schedule which had food going into their mouths every two hours or so . . . as if they’d perish without constant calorie intake (no wonder many American kids are becoming chubby).
As noon approaches, updates on exactly what time it is are delivered to your office door in what seems like 17-second intervals, because the food you allowed them to have 40 minutes ago is a distant memory, and it’s almost noon which means THAT is lunchtime. At the stroke of noon, if you do not drop what you’re doing and race to the kitchen to begin slavishly preparing food, at least one child collapses to the floor in tears, shocked by your unspeakably cruelty.
The insults you bear when you finally leave your desk to make the much-desired lunch only to find that the lunch is half-eaten. (Then you begin to think Mommy Dearest thoughts of serving them the same half-eaten meal when they demand snacks 47 minutes from now.)
The racing of sweaty little people into your office while fleeing an irate sibling –who’s likely been taunted in some fashion – labeling your office “base.”
The never-ending stream of dirty dishes overflowing the sink so much so that if they’re not cleaned after every gorge-fest – consuming precious work time in the middle of the day when you’re most alert and awake – you will no longer be able to find the sink and an army of ants will assert squatters’ rights.
Sticky countertops and floors, even though the last time the kids HAD to eat something, you cleaned the watermelon juice and copious drips from the lemonade popsicles. (“Hey, what are these splotches of black on the floor?”)
Spending an unplanned half-hour in the morning, sweating and swearing profusely in your head, as you are compelled to take apart the CD player because someone who shall remain nameless, jammed a CD into it (a DVD actually), only to find out that you’re no MacGyver and now the thing won’t close.
The fact that food is consumed three times as fast as normal because the growing children are home all the time, thus necessitating more trips to the grocery store with the children in tow (the work-at-work spouse isn’t home until late on many nights) because if you ordered groceries online as frequently as you needed to replenish supplies you’d go broke with the delivery fees which have been hiked due to gas prices.