I’ve been feeling a LOT like Cinderella, sans the fairy godmother.
It’s Labor Day and I’m working; just as I have every single day, but one, since May 22nd, when I took 2 days off to visit my sister before she moved 1500 miles away. Prior to May 22nd, I had worked every single day since December 25th.
My husband has worked every single day, but one, since December 25th. We complain and worry to each other. We’re lucky since we’re not carrying tremendous debt, like a lot of people are, and we’re still working. We worry because we cannot work our way into a rosier future. What we have is what have to look forward to. We believe that we will be working this hard until we die.
Last night I dreamt that we were having fun, just us, without any worries. This morning I told my husband about the dream and I told him how sad I am that he didn’t have a chance to go fishing more often this summer. Before he left, I hugged him extra tight and smothered him in smooches until we laughed. It’s good to begin another workday on a happy note.