Ok, so I can’t vote here. I do hope that everyone who can went out and voted Obama, thereby making the world a safer place and helping ensure that a country with a big say is not run by people who should not be in charge of handing out the chocolate mice and Kola Kubes at a corner shop.
This morning, I had a brief reminder of what life was like before I started commuting. My office closed at noon today so that everyone had ample opportunity to fulfil their above-mentioned democratic duty. Rather than spend four hours travelling for three hours in the office, I worked from home.
For a start, it was light when I got up. Light! I could see inside my closet. At no point did I almost fall down stairs because I didn’t want to put a light on and disturb the sleeping husband. In fact, he was up and awake and we had a conversation. Admittedly nothing deep and intellectual, but still a great improvement on the ‘Unh-uh’ that I usually get when dropping off his coffee as I head out the door. I had breakfast. Then, I had coffee while not driving. I did not have to ask someone to move so that I could squeeze onto a middle seat; in fact, I had my choice of prime seating arrangements. Rather decadently, I even swapped seats a time or two, just because I could.
It was like slipping into a parallel life.
This afternoon I had a glimpse into what life would be like if I didn’t workat all. I met up with Zoesmom and the eponymous child herself for lunch; we got manicures. ZM and I spent the afternoon chatting and catching up, because we have gone from working in adjacent offices to seeing each other about once every month, and that is a far from satisfactory arrangement.
I wandered home for around 5.30pm and went out for dinner with my husband. Mid-week. We had a couple of margaritas and talked: about the election, and work, and Thanksgiving, and Bonfire Night. We planned our anniversary gift to ourselves (new cutlery, anyone got any recommendations?)
All that done, and I still have time to pack for tomorrow’s little jaunt to Charleston. Until Friday, I will be your roving correspondent, musing from foreign sofas or possibly from Starbucks since my hotel charges for internet access. (Doubletree! Oh Doubletree! Do try to catch up.)