If you click any of the elephants in the table associated with this radio button yada yada yada

Elephants? Really? I guess if you were a developer and some baggy old designer started talking about clicking on elephants, you’d probably think she had partaken of a liquid lunch too. Wouldn’t you? (Er, I mean *software* developer here. I put hexes on *real estate* developers.)

I dunno why my brain replaced “elements” with “elephants”. Maybe it’s because an elephant construction business has taken over my growlery? But no, I did not drink my lunch and everyone in that region of cube-land had a good, loud laugh. I can’t remember the last time I have drinken my lunch. At least not on a workday. I do occasionally have whine if I’m having lunch at a restaurant on a non-work-day. Once upon a time, back in the Jurassic Age, when I worked with those slackers over at the EPA, drinking lunch was a relatively frequent activity. I don’t mean that we did it every day. Most days, I did pretty much what I do now, which is to pack up leftovers for lunch and eat at my desk. But there were some surreal days that seemed to require going out for lunch and ordering a beer or even a ‘hattan. I won’t describe those days. Y’all know the kind.

That was when I was young and, well, a little wild and crazy sometimes. And then came the children… No more drinking at lunch. What the heck, no more lunch! When Elizilla was born, I took three months off. I got paid for that three months. When I asked my loverly government contractor employer about maternity leave, they looked at me like I was from Zephron III. After some hemming and hawing and shifting from one foot to the other, they more or less admitted that they did not have a maternity leave policy. But. I had something like three months worth of sick time saved up and THEY LET ME USE THAT!!! When that time was just about up, I was seesawing about going back. I did not want to put my beautiful little beach urchin in day care. Do not get me wrong. I am not against day care. I even think it can have some advantages. It just wasn’t right for me and my baby.

The solution ended up being that my company created a part-time job for me and let me share hours with the GG. Who, by the way, worked for the same company as me (that was before he jumped over to the EPA). What that meant was that the GG worked from 6:00 AM until 2:00 PM. I bundled my baby girl into the car and drove over to the EPA at 2:00 PM. The GG came out and drove the baby home and I went inside to work for five hours. So, no lunch. Sometimes when I look back on those days, it seems like it was so easy. And in some ways it was. It also made for a *very* long day for all of us and not a whole lot of alone time for parents, not that any parent gets much of that. Still, it worked for us. It meant that both of us could be primary caregivers for our young children and I will always appreciate how much support I got from my [late] boss Byron and other folks at that company *and* all of the EPA folks who put up with my schedule.

Now? Liquid lunch? No way. Even on the rare occasion that I go out for lunch with a group, I get water or iced tea or something. I *walk* almost every lunch hour. I walk about a mile and a half. Then I return to my desk and eat my lunch of cobbled together leftovers as I ease back into whatever prodject (or three) that I am currently working on.

3 Responses to “If you click any of the elephants in the table associated with this radio button yada yada yada”

  1. Margaret Says:

    I sometimes have a beer at lunch if I’m out with my parents at a restaurant; my dad has one and I hate for him to drink alone. 😉

  2. jane Says:

    I am currently dreaming of sitting on the beach (or in the ‘hole’) and drinking a beer. or two. I don’t care if it’s lunch or 4:00. I just want to be on the beach, drinking a beer.

  3. Pooh Says:

    With mittens and a beer cozy?