Because I trudged out of the office late on Friday with at least 7 hours of work stuffed into my backpack
Because my son and I were both so wrecked at the start of our weekend, all we could do was pick and gripe at each other until 20 feet at least separated us during our evening walk
Because on Saturday morning, I was crying before I’d even gotten out of bed
Because the relentless pressure from work hadn’t abated during the night
Because my kiddo and I have outings already on the schedule for this sunny spring weekend
Because the week ahead at work is a vise grip on my mood
Because a roomful of PhDs can’t screw in a lightbulb
Because Sunday afternoon is not only my last shot at getting all the work done for Monday, it’s also my only shot at sharing this one weekend with my only boy
Because even though my 9-year-old laptop finally decided to glitch out on the VPN program that allows me to work from home
there is no way
no way on this green and fragrant earth
I am taking my son with me to the office
to hack through the ever-thickening tangle of tasks.
Because life is too
other than this,
Because this computer is still a machine after all
a cotton gin
with codes and circuits that may be labyrinthine but they are also decipherable
Because I demand my weekend back.
Because despite the persistent phantom grip of performance on the back of my neck
these ribs this brain this family
these two days
belong to me.
So I run
outside under thawing sun and whipping wind.
I don safety goggles and drill holes in plastic buckets and turn black soil and drop in tiny rosemary seeds.
after my son falls asleep, I come here
to this ancient, groaning, overheating machine and look and look and look
through security settings, Norton and Spybot
without a map
or a Rosetta stone for these codes, no
I read Cervantes at bedtime and dance to The Knife by candlelight.
But lyrics are no use now.
The only thing is to dig deep
I can solve this
I will solve this
control panel, google, cut here to paste there, reboot, download,
adjust settings, override
Your remote session has been established. For security purposes, please close this browser window.
Tomorrow, I will sit here next to snow pea tendrils crawling toward the light,
the dog splayed out and baring her pearly pink belly to the southern sun,
my kiddo secreted away in his Blanket Palace reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid
and I’ll work.
I’ll work on my Sunday
which may be a sin or it may simply be
But because I fixed what was broken,
it’s my Sunday
to work as I see fit.