All I can think is how much I hate my husband right now.  He’s at the golf course near home so he should be able to take care of our son.  Now, I have to bail out of this meeting, take a cab for an hour that will cost me $100 and my poor son will have to wait to get comfort and relief.  And where’s my retired parents?!?  They live right around the corner from my monkey’s school. They could pick him up in five minutes, but I can’t fault them.  It is not their responsibility.  I try to reach him on the phone.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Voicemail.  UGH!  I try to reach my parents on their house phone, each of their cell phones, but no one answers at any of their numbers.  People are starting to push past me to get their seats.   Depending where you sit will dictate the pecking order.  I hate my husband.  I hate my husband.

Thankfully the PM is at the back of the boardroom getting a coffee and perusing the assortment of pastries.  I can discreetly tell her that I’ve got to go. I am a grown woman,  yet I still feel like a kid about to tell a bad secret.  I pull her aside and I think I’m in luck. She’s surprisingly in a good mood.  But, as soon as I let her know I have to leave her façade stops.  “Can’t you leave in an hour?  We have an auditor come in for this meeting”, she says with a glint in her eye.  “I wish I could.  I’ve tried all my backups but can’t get a hold of anyone”, I try to explain, but sound like a whiny kid who’s dog ate their homework.  She looks at me with I swear looks like disgust.  “Well, if it is a family emergency, you go one home.”, she says.  Maybe she is being sincere, but I doubt it.  I don’t care at this point.  I’ll over analyze it later.

I go downstairs to grab one of the cabs that line the street in the Financial District.  I know you’re supposed to walk to the ‘front’ of the line other wise it causes such a tizzy, but I just want the closest one to get the hell out of here.  My son needs me, my husband is going to get a verbal beat down, and I didn’t even get to finish my coffee!  Man, this smells like Monday all over.  As soon as I open the door to the closest cab I get tons of honks.  Whatever.  “I need to get to Brooklyn”, I bark at the cabby.  I can see his hesitance  in his eyes.  He hears the honking of his cabby brethren, but he also knows that this is a good fair.  We’re off.  I’m coming baby!

As we speed along the highway I keep trying to dial my husband.  Over and over again.  I get his voice mail each time.  It just heightens my anger with each unsuccessful call.  Rather than spend the entire commute back home in anger, I give up.  It’s not like I’m going to turn around at this point.  We are so far along that if I turned around now, I will have missed the meeting anyway.  I’ll just login after I take care of my monkey.

Beep. Beep.  I get a text.  “Liquid Lunch at Nota Bene.  I have lunch with a client at 11:45am.  See you guys there at 1:15pm. xoxo”, it says.  Ugh.  Big meeting.  Liquid lunch.  Some free time away from the family.  All gone.

ILoveMyChildren.  ILoveMyChildren.  If I say it enough maybe it will be the reminder I need to make this day better.  That or the slice of cake I’ll pick up at the local bakery.  Hmm…which type to get.  Carmel Crunch.  Chocolate and Vanilla Mousse.  Cherry Cheesecake.  LaRocca cakes, I love three.