When I was working, I would often come home and make bread and watch Little House on the Prairie.  People think that making bread is so time consuming–it’s really not.  You just mix some flour and yeast together, knead for ten minutes or so, and then wait.  During that wait time, I’d watch an entire episode of Little House on the Prairie.  Or Friends.  Or Roseanne.  I loved those shows, even though they were all reruns I’d seen a million times.

I haven’t watched an entire TV show from start to finish in months.  I refuse to even turn the television on, lest someone somewhere realize that I’m–gasp–not being productive during my year-of-productivity.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m having a lot of fun.  I just got back from an amazing solo trip to California, and I had a wonderful time.  But none of that time was down time.  And very little of it was devoted to, well, eating or sleeping.  I’m exhausted.  And I’m starving.  And I won’t let myself stop doing things to eat or to rest, because I feel I don’t deserve to–because I’m not working.

So for those of you who are watching and judging–I imagine there are many of you–here’s what my days look like:

I get out of bed and find something to cover my nakedness; a robe or a dress I’ve already worn.  I walk five feet into the office, where I sit down.  I spend the next seven or so hours in that office, writing blog posts, applying for jobs, editing photos, and occasionally chatting with people on Facebook (seriously–there’s a reason why new moms show up on Facebook more often than normal–people need adult human contact).  I leave the office maybe three times to pee, and if I’m feeling really wild, once to make a cup of tea.  On alternating days I do take an hour long break to run, which is the single thing in my life that I still love and enjoy.

I leave the house around 3:00 every day to walk the dog.  Sometimes I make dinner.  I rarely eat it.

After paying attention to whomever needs paying attention to–my husband, my friends, my mother–I return to my office in the evening and continue doing whatever I was doing earlier.  It’s 11:42 pm and I’ve had a total of four ounces of salmon and three ounces of ice cream to eat in the last 36 hours.  I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m hungry.  I’m still on Pacific time after my trip–from which I just returned yesterday and need to write 16 blog posts about and edit 2,578 photos from. I need a sick day.  But I can’t take one because I don’t have a job.

Which really, really sucks.

I can not wait to go back to work so I can have some time to myself.  Seriously.