It’s 8:55am, I’m sat in the office, so I’m guessing writing 750 words this morning is going to make me 10 minutes late (at minimum) starting work… ah well. I have a pretty defined set of goals to meet this week, so it should be fairly straightforward. I can always work through a part of lunch.
The ride into work this morning was damn cold - I seem to remember hearing the weather forecast last night, and it said some ridiculous minus number. Certainly cold enough to make your ears hurt! (I really do need to figure out some kind of snood to wrap around my ears on the journey in).
For some reason the kids were mental this morning. Middle Child (she with the loudest mouth in the known universe) seemed bent on ignoring all instructions - causing both myself and W to lose it with her several times. At one point, after being told to finish her breakfast she immediately turned the stereo on. We both arrived like Judge Dread at the same time as each other and started barking instructions (I threatened to cut the plug off the hifi).
Isn’t it wonderful when the morning starts like that?
Eldest child finally turned up at the foot of the stairs an hour after sliding out of bed. Quite how she takes so long to get dressed and ready on a morning is a mystery of the universe. Several days recently she has missed breakfast because of it - usually saying she doesn’t want any, when the reality is that she knows she doesn’t have time.
Dragging myself out into the cold, nobody met me on the drive, and I wondered if W and the kids had already departed for school - a quick check at the end of the drive revealed no rag-tag collection of parent and children dragging themselves along the road, so I leaned my bike against the car and started fishing through pockets for keys to the front door.
Just as I lifted the key to the lock, the door swung open to reveal a bobble hatted little person, backpack securely attached to her back, with layer upon layer of warm clothing.
“Are you going in the car?”
“Yes - supposed to be at the school in five minutes”
“You’re going to be late”
“Tell me about it”.
She said that in one of those tones where you know the conversation has already ended. I decided to busy myself with switching on the music player in my pocket, and starting the cycle to work.
Town was fairly quiet this morning (apart from the double roundabout by the bridge, which is always something like a video game - you know, a particularly dangerous one - Burnout, or Grand Theft Auto). I’ve never actually seen a carjacking in town, but that doesn’t explain why so many people - usually Mums on the school run - drive like they’ve just stolen the car.
Office is very quiet this morning. One colleague in the entire building before I arrived, and I already know that very few of my other colleagues in our office are going to be in today. One of them is in Copenhagen with his girlfriend, and I have no idea where the others might be. Probably had the same problem getting out of bed that I have.
Of course now we have the school run to contend with, we don’t get the luxury of “just being a few minutes late” any more. The children have to be at school before the gates shut - otherwise you find yourself like a naughty child in the school office, signing them in. I have too many memories of doing that at primary school to do it myself.
It’s funny really, isn’t it - how our lives are shaped by so many small rules made by others. Having young children, a huge part of our life is more or less dictated by the school routine, and wider “life” - making things for bazaars, costumes for school plays, homework, and so on. It’s one of the things you never think about when you have children. In reality, the children are the “no effort” part of the equation; school is the hard bit.
Anyway. Racing towards 750 words, and another colleague has arrived in the office. Breezing in with tales of the weekend, and gusts of cold air from outside.
I wonder if hitting 750 words exactly is kind of like hitting 140 characters in a twitter post? Something to aspire to?