Woman's Work...

 I should be deep in sleep right now preparing for the sh!t storm of packages and catalogs that await me in the morning, but instead I sit here listening to the gurgle in my stomach that will undoubtedly disturb me as soon as I settle into bed and acquire the prefect heat seal. Lately my unsettled belly seems to be a combination of the lingering effects from surgery and trying to keep up with the natural speed of our everyday.

I have been back to work for just over a week and it's hard to say how things are going.  On the one hand, the bombardment of my body with the vitamins D2 and D3 seem to have done wonders for my stamina and fatigue, but on the other hand, the workload of coming back to the Post Office smack in the middle of season, has not.  Truth be told, I can't really say if I'm pushing myself too hard or if I'm just out of shape.  Each morning I lay in bed and ask myself, what hurts today?  If it's just my hands and feet, I go to work.  If it's anything in my midsection, I will stay home. But truthfully, based on tonight's assessment, not going to work has proven more hazardous than my regular 9 hour shift.

I really hate when people say that someone "runs or throws like a girl" as if to imply that girls are somehow inferior to boys.  While their bodies are clearly different, their capabilities and no less amazing and spectacular, and in some cases superior and more capable than a man's.  This weekend I had finally had enough of the slow drain in the bathroom sink.  After some quick consult with Youtube, I got behind the pedestal sink (note: beautiful to look at, a b!tch to fix.), dismantled most of the drain, cleaned it all out (gross), and put it all back together.

Why?

Because Tony physically can't get back there, let alone get his hands into the tight spaces. And while I did need his muscle to loosen the drain on the kitchen sink, (I got adventurous with my new found confidence) I am better suited for the tight space jobs.

Crawling around in the attic, ensuring the roof leak doesn't get into the insulation and ceiling?  That's me too, since Tony's 6'2" frame doesn't fit into the 4 foot high peak. Re-running the insulation that was ripped out when we first discovered the leak? Me again, same reason.  Installing the new GFI in the kitchen?  I just fit better between the cabinets.  And while Tony is happy to throw his muscle and brawn at every project in this joint, he knows which ones he's best suited for, like installing fences and digging out the septic for maintenance.

Except that too became more of a joint effort, with him starting the hole, and me continuing to dig and measure until I hit the lid.  Then him digging the rest of the hole, and then us covering it with plywood for two weeks until it was actually pumped.  Then me ordering the riser that needed to be installed before it was back filled, and him not feeling like putting it in. Which brought me to this morning, when I found myself trying to dig ... in the mud and rain... the rest of the hole so I could install the riser before the ground and all of the dirt froze solid.  And of course, it didn't fit. So I had to bring the whole thing back to the septic company and inevitably request a refund (that I can't actually get until next Tuesday), leaving us with either A) trying to find our own solution this weekend if the weather holds out, or B) a giant hole in the lawn and pile of dirt in the driveway until the spring thaw.

Either way, that's how I started my day. And while the day was admittedly over scheduled, and stretched on until well after 9pm, the stomach churning started with the digging of the septic mess at 8am.  And now here I sit with my stressed-out, gurgling belly, achy back, legs, and butt, I still don't believe that any job should be gender specific.  But, when it comes to digging around for the septic and messing with risers and lids....

....it sure as hell shouldn't have been this woman's work.