Me: What do you want?

Cute IT Guy: Hey, good lookin! 

Me: What are you doing?

Cute IT Guy: What are you doing?

Me (unamused): I asked you first.

Cute IT Guy: Thinking about you.

Me: Yeah?  What were you thinking?

Cute IT Guy: I’m thinking, "Man, when she finally starts liking guys, I am so ready to sweep her off her feet."

First and foremost, I want to say that I think Moms have a helluva job.  Working moms, you ESPECIALLY have my respect.  But something last night REALLY hit home with me, and I’ve had the kind of day that just drove the nail in the coffin.

It SUCKS being a unmarried woman in this business.

I watched "Desperate Housewives" last night, which I haven’t done in almost a year now, and apparently, Lynette has gone back to work and her husband is home with the kids.  Lynette, at a time critical to her company, needed to take a morning off to accompany her child to his first day of school.  Her boss said no.  She said, "Well, I need a balance of home and work," tapping her foot, "I need to make sure to keep that balance."

And, coming off as a totally heartless bitch, her boss said no.  She said, "No, you may not.  You may not because the childless women consistently do NOT receive any balance, so why should you be more fortunate?  Why should you be treated differently?"

And I agree.

Now, let me say this: Lynette’s situation was different.  If she had been a single working mom, I could see letting her come in late that morning.  But considering that her stay-at-home husband was fully prepared to take the child, I have to back the boss. 

I can’t count the weekends that I’ve been tapped to work because all of the other girls "have family plans."  And I’m the assistant that they ask to stay overtime, since I have no children to pick up or even a husband to go home to.  And FORGET me taking off the day before Christmas Break or Thanksgiving.. all of the other ladies have families. 
Someone’s got to stay, Sarah.

It is NOT easy being the single gal in the defense industry.  Every engineer with a twinge of testosterone can smell the empty ring finger a mile away, and you must always find a way to coyly yet unmistakeably back out of every dinner invite, every lingering glance, and every "not so much for business" phone call.  You have to deal with the stares, with the out-of-the-side-of-the-mouth comments each time you’re praised/promoted/mentioned as to how you may’ve
earned that recognition, and when you’re my age, most of these men leering could be your father.  Or older.

This is not to say that I think working moms should be held to my standard.  I know that I have flexibility mothers do not posses.  But don’t assume that, just because I’ve borne no children, or just because I have no husband to attend to later, that I am available 24/7.  And please don’t speak of me as if I’m any less qualified because I have no children.  And, above all else, when you see pictures of the Boy and HapHook up on my cube and I tell you that you’re not my children, do NOT look at me pityingly, as if I’ve not really reached my potential yet.

I like Lynette on DH.  Truly.  She’s my kinda gal.  But for the first time, and it may be the only time, I had to agree with her enemy.

You’ve been gone for three days now.  And some odd hours.  I stopped counting the minutes.

I’m not going to lie.  I was kinda looking forward to having some time to myself.  I had a bunch of things I wanted to get done, that is very hard for me to get done while you’re here.  And guess what?  I did them.  Then, after that half hour that it took me to do them, I’ve just been looking for things to do.

The kids are fine.  Shelby hasn’t moved from her shelf, and Friday missed me.  Or you.  I really couldn’t tell at first, since he’s obviously a neglected and lonely cat, but he repeatedly said "SARAHBROWN" in his little cat voice, so I guess he was just throwing me a bone.  The fish are all alive.  This is good because it means that I don’t have to curl up in a fetal position on your porch.

My kids miss you, too.  I know this because they face the east and howl or bark in the most sorrowful tones ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT.  I’m talking ALL night long.  And I think the most sweet and harmless things about them.  I promise I do.

I don’t EVER think about how, by the time you get home, I’ll have plenty of time to kill them AND dispose of the bodies.  Nope.

I felt very odd at the bridal shower yesterday, being a better friend of the groom than the bride, and not really knowing half the people there.  But we threw a killer shower, precious and sassy at the same time, and I was proud of us.  It has made me rethink, however, this whole "eloping" thing.  As many THOUSANDS of weddings as I’ve taken part in, and how, in every single one, I’ve pampered the bride and taken hellified abuse and smiled through it all because it’s "her special day".. I think I’ve earned that.  So honey, I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe that we’re going to have a simple ceremony.  We’re now looking at a wedding the size of Princess Diana.  Just be prepared.

I miss you at stupid moments.  This morning, I tried to make waking up without you pleasant, by doing all the things I try not to do when you’re there.  I left the alarm on and listened to music all morning.  I turned on all the lights in the house.  I used a hair dryer with the door open.  I made coffee.  I got all of my ironing done.. for the week.  And I left the house at seven.  But, truth be told, the message in the mirror made my heart hurt and I would’ve traded all of the ironing for that fifteen minutes of cuddling that I wake up to every morning.

I gorged all weekend on foods that you won’t eat.  I had tuna, corndogs, popcorn, nuts with M&Ms.. and, as you can imagine, was VERY ill from it.

I’ve run out of batteries.

I can’t wait for you and the Boy to get back.  I’ve held off any and all Halloween decorating because I thought that, you know, it being one of my favorite traditions of the BitterHouse, maybe I could pass that on.  Maybe Halloween at Sarah’s house would be fun.  I’ve gone ahead and gotten the green light on taking Friday off, so maybe we can spend the day doing that.

I miss you.  Mightily.  And I know I’ll talk to you tonight and pretend that I haven’t missed you, and I’m NOT sleeping on your pillow because it smells like you, and I HAVEN’T stolen a shirt of yours to sleep in, and I WILL NOT save all of your favorite meals for when you return.. but it’s all a lie.

Tell your folks I said hi and send them my love.

Then get that precious little ass back here.

Much love,

Cranberry Sauce