I think at a certain point, you just get used to fucked up hours. Monday through Friday, I get up at 6:45 to get ready for work while Kidling gets ready for school. Most mornings John gets up, too, and makes breakfast, but lately he’s been down with the flu. I go to work (meet John for lunch), and get home at 5:30.
Then (ideally) I study until John gets home at 10:15. Sometimes I browse reddit until 9 or so, and study for an hour. Then John and I stay up until 11:30 or midnight, and rinse and repeat the next day.
On Tuesdays, I go straight from work to class, and get home at 10 pm to hang out with John until bedtime. On Saturdays, I go to class from 9 am to 7 pm, and John’s at work when Saturday’s lunch comes around, so I don’t see him until he gets off work at 8 pm.
So, on average, John and I see each other about 2-3 hours a day during the week. Tonight, one of my friends from the PTSA had a birthday party (and those only come once a year, lol), so I went to that. It was awesome, but I also feel bad because I didn’t get home until 11 pm, and John was already asleep.
I’m feeling stretched thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. I wonder if I’m stretching too high, taking on more than I can carry.