Between 5 and 6 am: Get up to feed Zygote
Next two hours: Shower, eat, dress Zygote, play with her a bit, feed cats, feed Zygote again
Between 7:30 and 8: Drive to work, curse traffic on 95. Remember that I promised never to complain about traffic after my hellish commutes in NJ. Think, "fuck that."
8-10: Various cube-dweller related items
10:15 - 12:15: More work. Curse Powerpoint.
12:15 - 12:30: Eat lunch at my desk. Always a packed lunched. Check the New York Times. Get depressed.
12:30 - 1: First panic that I am not going to get done everything that I need to get done.
1: Pump again. Double pump to save time. Try not to stare at the clock.
1:15 - 3:30: Endless conference calls, phone calls, emails, living of the dream.
3:30: Pump again. Count ceiling tiles. Make a mental gratitude list.
3:45 - 5: Mad rush to complete everything.
5: Slink guiltily out the door, convinced that I will be fired for my lack of commitment to work.
5-5:40ish: Commute. Curse Alewife. NPR.
5:45 - 6:30: Play with Zygote.
6:30 - 7:30: Feed Zygote, feed self, dress Zygote for bed. If she has reached the smelling point, we bathe her.
7:30 - 8: Clean up, make tomorrow's lunches, grunt pleasantries at YG.
8: Feed Zygote again.
8:20: Collapse on couch. Converse with husband. Mind numbing t.v. and Internets. Occasional reading. Guilt over not writing or blogging or keeping track of Zygote's various accomplishments in the 500 baby books we have.
It's kind of exhausting and you'll notice that I don't really do the cooking, and we outsource (heh) our cleaning. Also, my mom is with us this month so there is no rush to get her to daycare in the morning. Yet.
I know that we're going to get it together in time, but I am already feeling the pull between work and family and then wondering how I am going to fit me time (writing, reading, running) in.
Seriously, though, I wouldn't trade it for anything.