Oh that moment where you finally get to your hotel room, and the reality of “no one is here who needs me at this precise moment and there’s no house to clean” hits, and all you wanna do it take a nap.
But you’re on Eastern time, which means bedtime and then morning will come earlier than normal, so really you should stay up.
But not drink coffee, cuz that would mess with bedtime ……
and so you browse FB and catch up on email, all the while trying to force yourself to find out where the “gym” is (probably an 12’x12′ room with one treadmill, a bike, a partially deflated ball, a static-y T.V. and a sweaty man in business slacks and shoes.)
And then, you feel a smidge of guilt, because how many other blessed work-at-home moms of two have jobs where they get to stay in hotel rooms–whether under the honorable pressure of delivering a training product to clients at the crack of dawn the next day or not–for a night alone?
Not many, I tell you. Not many.
I’m so incredibly blessed. I love my job. I love my family.
I love that my job takes me from my family for really only tiny bits of time, and then allows me to work in the midst of my family most of the bits of time.
I love that I get to put on my professional hat, and I love that I got to snuggle with my kids this morning, and kiss their noses before jumping in the car to race to the airport.
I love that I have the honor of teaching valuable content to people who usually soak it up and thank me for it, and I love that I get to work for and with family.
It’s a crazy life, but it’s my crazy life. And I love it.
Now … on to finding that “gym” …
