I rarely talk about my part time job. My job is being a homemaker. I just work a few hours a week at a law firm.

Yesterday I worked extra hours at the law firm filling in for the receptionist. If you’ve ever worked the switchboard, you know it’s very difficult to get work done when you’re constantly interrupted. I had some things I was able to do for awhile, but most of the day I was reading a book in between calls. One of the partners came up to get some candy, because it’s Christmas, and there’s always some treat being delivered. We exchanged pleasantries and then the phone rang. As I was answering it, the partner said, “Oh, boy! Oh, boy! A phone call! A phone call!”

I wanted to high tail it back home where my ironing, cleaning and dealing with doctors’ offices and insurance companies is appreciated. And I wanted to walk by the conference room before his next deposition and say, “Oh, boy! Oh, boy! A deposition! Isn’t this the most exciting thing to happen in your career?” But I bit my tongue.

Don’t judge the man too harshly. Something similar happened a few years ago when I was working full time. I was filling in for the receptionist while she took her lunch break. At that office there was even less I could do at the receptionist desk because the software I used primarily wasn’t installed on the receptionist’s computer. So, when I filled in for her, I typically cleaned up my email folders and read the news online. One of the engineers walked by and asked how long I’d worked for the company. I told him five years, and he said, “And look at you now. Surfing the internet.”

After yesterday, I’m dreading January. You see, in January, I’ll go from working 12 hours a week, to 24 hours a week. They want me to cover the phones more often so that the receptionist can help with other things.

I’m not working just to “have something to do” as one lady put it. I’ve got plenty to do at home. We do actually need the money. We’re trying to make good financial decisions. We keep building up our emergency fund, but you know, with chronic illness, there are a lot of emergencies.

The worst part is the traffic. Spending three hours a day in the car is not acceptable to me. And I even listen to sermons on podcasts or audiobooks. Right now I don’t have to commute during rush hour. It’s a long commute for a part time job, but until now, I’ve justified it by saying that I miss traffic and it’s a stress free job. I’m a personal secretary for a retired lawyer. I pay his bills, type his correspondence, make travel arrangements and make his doctors’ appointments. Pretty much everything I do for David.

Maybe it won’t be bad. Maybe this will be okay.

Maybe David’s next job will have better health insurance and I can quit.

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