When my husband was working, I remember telling him that I missed going to work and getting time away from the house. Now that the cards have turned, I would give anything to quit my jobs, drive my kids to their events, and be at the teacher-parent conferences. In a snap, all the responsibilities I had taken for granted now are my husband’s.

As a nonworking parent, it’s easy to say, “I work full time too, as a parent,” which is apprehensible. Yet, the working parent doesn’t get noticed for the long hours away from the kids, creating new working relationships with coworkers and clients that aren’t nearly as meaningful as a relationship with their children.

What does doubles look like? That’s what my girlfriend texted me today, trying to squeeze in some connecting time. Doubles to me looks like getting ready for work at 6 am. 5 days a week, I put my dreads up into a bun. I take the kids to school at 7:45 am and begin work at the schools by 8:15 am. As a substitute teacher, I’m on call, but as the winter months have come, the need for a substitute is so great that they can book me weeks in advance. Lately, I’ll have the month booked prior to the first.

So, I go teach at a school with new-to-me office personnel and principals, with new students and teacher’s aids. I do my best, which is usually appreciated, and then jump into my car at 3 pm. Lately, I’ve been working in high schools, with developmentally challenged children, and my usual K-8th. I enjoy all my jobs. I like impacting my community, even if it’s a different community every day.

Then at 3 pm I jump into my car and drive home. In between shifts, my husband can find my doubles frustrating. He might not always support me in the way that I would want him to. For example, sometimes, he wants attention instead of just giving me time with the kids. This, in turn, frustrates me and can create problems.

So I get home and spend 30-45 minutes watching TV with the kids, reading Malakai a book, and asking Halaya how school was. At 4 pm, I start getting ready to go to work. After I shower, change my clothing, and do some makeup, I put my hair back into a bun and put a net on it. I’ve noticed some intense neck pain with the dreads and having them pilled up on the top of my head, all day, but they are symbolic to me, a marking of when I became pregnant and had Malakai, similar to how my partner’s dreads mark Halaya’s conception. I leave fifteen minutes before my shift every day. I either walk and calm my mind during this time or spend ten minutes in my car in front of the restaurant playing Lily’s Garden on my phone.

So far, I’ve always been on time for work, besides once when I thought I started work at 5 and not 4 (that’s on Sundays only.) When I go to work, I begin a set routine. I always fill the chocolates that go with the receipts before I clock in. Then I walk toward the kitchen, pounding fists with the server I’m relieving and saying “Hola” to the staff in the kitchen. I clock in and begin with the bar, taking the same steps every day unless the other server gets to work before me; in that case, he will start with the bar. I get to choose the light color that lights up the liquor. The other server said he never put the light on in the past, so I got the privilege. I choose the color that matches my mood for the day, not that anyone notices. Something about this rhythm of doing things in the exact order helps me balance my full day’s worth of work. If I perform these steps, everything will be okay, and nothing will be forgotten.

When it comes to customers at Chapala’s, everyone is nice. The staff is friendly, and the customers are lovely. I am fortunate with this job. I don’t make the tips I would in San Diego, but I make enough to pay my bills and take my daughter to do something fun on the weekends. While I’m waitressing, somebody might take offense if I try to crack a joke or say anything that’s not in line with what I say to almost every table. It’s the world we live in today. Dry or dark humor is not often appreciated, so I just kind of do this step-by-step process.

Chapala always gives me a shift meal. This is my first time working at a restaurant that gives a waitperson a shift meal. I appreciate this because not being hangry is essential to me. So I always accept this meal. I feel healthy in general, eating Mexican food almost every night. I mostly get salads, but rice and beans, meat, and some sauce are better for you than people may make it out to be. So when I close Chapala, it’s never the worst day of my life, well besides when my friend died, but I asked to go home early that day, and they understood. This place is one of the best restaurants I’ve ever worked in.

So I get some days off, right? Well, I’m trying to run this small business. I need to make products and content and create a community with the business you’re reading this blog from right now. So, a lot of times, I come home, and I can’t even be present. I go down to Scotia on Fridays (I’m off from the restaurant Fridays and Saturdays) and read Tarot cards. I love reading Tarot cards. I love connecting with my community and guiding them through the cards. I’m very blessed to have this opportunity. Every other Friday, I go from my Tarot readings to the Explore Your Shadow acrylic expression class I teach at the Children’s Cottage. Most Saturdays and Sundays, I vend. I vend all over Humboldt County, and Little Lost Forest is growing in its presence in the community. But to answer the question I do get holidays off, off from the restauarant and from the schools. These days are not meant for cooking.

So when is enough, enough? Well, the more people I talk to, the more I hear, “I worked doubles and triples in my thirties.” I guess, this is the grind yet here I am having dreams where I’m screaming “I quit!” I envision myself leaving the restaurant in January. This will be a hard pull because restaurant money is quick money, and umbrellas the funding for my small business and pays the bills. I foresee Orion and I traveling to Renaissance Festivals next year to do the wand workshop and sell witchcraft goods. I envision myself attending grad school for writing, influenced by history and art. I would love to get a remote job where I work from home as a personal assistant. I can take substitute teaching jobs as I wish. Orion and I also make baked goods, which I sell at the Children’s Cottage. I dream of marketing this better online.

Next year, I foresee myself going to Germany to see my grandfather’s grave. A loss that I took hard over the summer. And most of all, I see myself spending more time with my kids next year. Without the restaurant job, I will get afternoons with my kids. Teaching occasionally instead of five days a week will allow me to grow my business. The new year is right around the corner. I’m going to keep my head down and grind it out, knowing that nothing is forever.