I didn’t know I was a control freak. This ugly trait surfaced when I finished making summer schedules for the office. The little columns were all lined up neatly on my Google calendar, indicating where shifts overlapped and where we might have a gap. And there before my eyes was the amazing revelation. I could take my Paid Time Off.

Now, lest you start feeling sorry for me, I do take time off. I go with Wendell to medical conventions three or four times a year. And we usually schedule some vacation time to go see the grandkids. But this PTO is different. It is mine, as an employee. I looked at the weekly schedule and discovered we are going to be over-staffed a few hours every week for the summer. And, we are making enough money to pay everyone!
So, I juggled my own shift just a little. Since I generally stay until 6:00, I can go in at 9:00. And since I always work Saturday mornings, I can take Friday mornings off.
This is beautiful. There is only one problem. I’m not sure I can do it. Wendell is out of town for three days, and I made myself stay home each of these mornings to catch up on household tasks that have been sadly neglected. I actually watch the clock to see how soon I can go to the office.
I’m pretty sure the first morning I’m home while they are seeing patients will be agony. But, I also know my husband will be really happy if this means we consistently have clean towels and groceries. And, he will be even happier if it means I finish my current work-in-progress and quit moaning about never having time to write.
So, I’m vowing to unclench my fingers from the office key. I’m determined to take a deep breath, look away from the clock, and trust God (and Lenna, Jordan, and Jenny) to handle things just fine without me. At least for three hours.