On Time

It's loud, Black gospel that gets you out of bed, BB, but you have been drifting in and out of consciousness for an hour maybe, aware that MOBB is getting ready to catch her early flight out of town.

You never know what sort of music or random sound will come out of the alarm clock; little fingers push buttons, all the buttons.

***

MOBB is sitting in an airport terminal while you rouse two kids, gather their clothes, feed them breakfast, dress yourself, pack some food, take out the trash and recycling, and drop the kids at their respective schools. You go to Starbucks too often, but damn it, how does one find time to eat breakfast before leaving the house each morning?

***

You need to pack for a trip to a partner agency, but the phone keeps ringing. Boss's boss needs something, and another agency calls up, desperate for help for a client. You hustle what information you can, finally packing so quickly you're sure you've forgotten something.

***

Clients roll steadily in for nearly an hour. When there's a brief lull you're almost startled. You've been up and in motion for nearly six hours. You sit down and start to mull over creating a curriculum for your new Monday morning groups.

***

There's enough time to grab a bite, maybe, and head back to the city so your coworker can make her afternoon appointment. You return to the office with only enough time for her to go straight to her car and take off. She won't be late at least.

***

Phone rings. It's your missing-in-action client, determined to give counseling another shot. You find time for her on Thursday, but it'll make you late for class.

Back at the office the phone rings more, and you're a bit overwhelmed at all the different directions you're being pulled.

***

Email from your friend, and you're promising that yes, you will come to the new gym at some point to work out. Maybe in four weeks when things have settled down.

***

Phone rings: "I have five more client files. Do you have time to counsel them?" You can take two, maybe three more on Saturday.

***

If you time it just right, you can pick up Wolfboy and drop by the house for him to put on his Cub Scout uniform before heading out to pick up THEGIRL.

***

She's happy to see you, but takes her time actually getting out of the school. She spends all day there, yet can't make a straight line to the exit, ever.

***

You have time to take the kids to eat, so you hit a noodle joint. The waitress is nice, offers to custom-make the spring rolls just the way THEGIRL likes them. You like her, but every second she's making small talk cuts into your time; the scout meeting starts at 7pm.

***

At five 'til you go ask for the check. You pay and load up the kids. THEGIRL starts wailing because her Sprite is still on the table. You consider selling her to the gypsies.

***

You make the meeting after wandering around the depths of a darkened church building for a few minutes. You've brought a bucket of toys to entertain THEGIRL, and that's good, because it quickly becomes clear that the projects the boys are making require the parents' supervision.

That is, the parents make the drums while the boys wander around the room and talk about Transformers.

***

Phone rings, and you plug an ear so you can hear the caller over the pandemonium: "Can you see two more clients on Wednesday nights?"

No. Maybe one.

"Nevermind, I'll ask someone else."

***

You are patient, but ready to leave well before it's over. Before you're five seconds removed from the meeting, the kids are asking for treats and to stay up late. Wolfboy asks approximately six times in five minutes, and in a smartass moment you'd like to take back, you tell him, "Ask me again. And again. More. You're not asking enough."

So he does. Damn. Sarcasm is lost on a six-year-old. I'd do better just eliminating it from my communication anyway. Bad Daddy. You take a time-out. Say... 30 minutes in a bubble bath oughta do.

***

You'd really like for them to be in bed ASAP, but you have some patience left and cut them a little slack.

***

At 9:02 they're both in bed, and the only sound is the Van Morrison concert on TV. You have a paper due Saturday, but you simply don't have the wherewithal or motivation to keep moving, to crack the books again. Maybe tomorrow night when MOBB is home, after you've counseled a particularly challenging client.

***

No one has anything ready to wear tomorrow including you. The Vietnamese iced coffee is all that's keeping you going, but now you wonder how you'll get to sleep.

***

And the earth revolves around the sun, and we all go on about our little dances, to and fro, following our whims and desires, chasing our muses and wishes. You are one little man on one little path, and all you can do is put one foot after the other, making the days happen, forging them your way, even when you're watching the path so closely that you forget to watch for your destination.