Manic Monday

Today, like all Mondays, I did not go to work in the morning. It is the tail end of my unwanted three day weekend.  Last spring, my hours at work were cut in half.  When my hours were reduced, I asked for Mondays off.  That way, I figured, I would have one weekday to go on job interviews and take care of any errands.  It was a good idea, saving me from working less hours per day and giving me total control of my schedule.  I find it curious that Mondays are so long and arduous.  All of my friends are at work. Even if I do my chores and catch up on writing AND reading.. I still have a ton of leftover time.  Try as I might, my situation has not improved much since then, save a couple of temporary freelance opportunities.  And babysitting.



Today I went to the bank.  As I approached my parked car, I noticed a car next to mine, the engine running, the driver in the driver's seat. The car was parked face out; mine was parked face in. Window down, as if the driver could communicate with me.  Not good, I thought, and made a commitment to getting in the car as fast as possible.


"Excuse me," I heard.


I did not want to get hit on.


I looked. He said, "Can you tell me where the post office is? I need to get a passport."


Harmless, I thought - Sort of. I gave him good directions and got into my car. I extended more than I should have and told him that he would need to make an appointment first, they would not accept a walk-in for a passport.

"So, can you talk for a couple of minutes?"


Fuck.


"No, I was happy to help you, but I'm not interested."


"You're pretty; are you married?"


"I know. I get hit on a lot. I'm not doing this."

Before I was off that street, my phone rang. It was the couple I babysit for. I was not in the mood for casual conversation, being a friend, or figuring out what weekend night I wanted to sacrfice. I didn't want to talk, but I also wanted to get it over with - so I took the call. 
I let the mom know that I was on the road, and would check my schedule and call her right back.  As predicted, I spent many minutes on the phone talking about things other than babysitting.  I was direct and to the point.  I avoided an uneccessary orientation sort of trip out of town with the mom (I did it before for this family, once is enough - besides, would I be paid to go for a car ride where I wouldn't be the authority in charge?  Was it appropriate to ask?) 

Since I've spent every Monday since midway last year mourning a full-time job, I ought to take every opportunity for income.  I reviewed my expenses this morning, and I really must take every opportunity for income.  I never imagined that when I came out of college with a four-year degree and an impressive list of leadership positions in student clubs.. that I'd be working part time and babysitting.

I'll be babysitting for the next six or seven weeks, once a week at minimum.

They are not well-behaved: they hit, lie, and test me.  They also not poorly behaved: they listen to me.  But they're very curious, and I'm not so entertained.  Last time, I found myself fielding sexual morality queries from an eleven year old: "I saw the previews for Iron Man 2.  The guy takes this girl home that he barely knows and they have SEX!  Don't you think that's a little..."

"Yes, it's wrong.  I'm not having this conversation with you."


Separately, theres something about disciplining other people's children that makes me mighty uncomfortable.  Children whose regular household rules are so different, more permissive, than the ones I would instill for my own family.  But I suppose I discipline other people's children more often than I know, as evidenced by the men who shamelessly hit on me and every other female.


Alternately, I am so grateful for my own high expectations of people, and for my own sources of income.  In times like these, people are just happy to have employment, and I am. But I'm also hungry, and happy, and the destination is the journey, so I make the most of it and stay mellow and calm, and most importantly, content.
 
But I don't entertain aggressive male strangers or bad kids.  They, simply, are misbehaving.

Image: Getty Images