changing schedules

For the last six weeks, Jacob and I have fallen into an easy pattern. He was at a family clinic for his first PA rotation and worked 10-5:30 every day. A glorious schedule. We could sleep in, eat some breakfast then I would send him off to work and dig into my email and work away until hereturned. It was a great routine.

Alas. All that just changed.

My PA is just starting his first ER rotation at Mount Sinai. Below is the very adorable first day of school photo that has unofficially become our tradition. aka i took one on the first day of his last rotation.

On the up side, it’s approximately an 11 minute drive from our apt. On the downside, he’ll be working crazy shifts for the next six weeks. Either 6am-2 pm, 2 pm-10pm or 10pm-6am. The overnights are what I’m dreading the most. I think. Or maybe the 2-10 shift where I’ll finish work and have to entertain myself for a few hours and find something acceptable to eat for dinner.

His first overnight shift is tomorrow…. Which means we have all day to play. The lovely part of working from home is you get to set your own hours. And if you haven’t heard, there is a major heat wave in Chicago. Perhaps we’ll make it to the pool. Then at 10 pm he’ll head to work… and I’ll head to bed.

I’m not sure how this crazy new schedule will affect us. We’ll have a lot more time together during the days – when for all intensive purposes I really should be working – and with only one computer for the pair of us…. We’ll also have a lot of nights and weekends apart. This may get interesting. We’ll see how attached we’ve become to our routine…

But we can survive anything for six weeks, right?

GRAT LIST:

• Having friends that fully support canceling a bonfire because it just sounds like too much work…
• Outdoor seating at the Winchester
• Peaking in the windows of Emily’s new house!!!
• Finding spectacular wedding presents on etsy

parking.

Have you ever realized that for your entire life you’ve taken something for granted, but now you’re faced with the overwhelming importance of said thing? This happened to me recently. It has become extremely apparent to me that parking has never been more important to me. Parking. I mean it seems so fundamental. Like it’s my car’s unalienable right to park within walking distance of my destination. For free.

Not so in Chicago. Parking is a luxury. Since when is a piece of concrete a luxury?

Somehow, growing up in the suburbs parking never even occurred to me as a potential life threatening issue. Could you imagine the uproar that would happen if one was forced to find street parking before going to trader joes or the bank or even the library? Oh, the humanity.

Now let’s be honest, parallel parking is scary. Can we all agree on that? Since living in the city I have successfully paralleled parked at least 3 times. I’m very proud of this accomplishment. All three times have been on the street in front of my apartment. I strategically make Jacob drive if there is even a tiny chance we may have to parallel park. {ok, I make him drive whenever we go anywhere….}

Now, if I allow it to, parking will slowly start to dominate my life. I can already feel its pull. I actually googled mapped Chase locations in the area and drove to the one with the clearest parking lot. Who does that? Plus, on the way back from the bank I wanted to go to the library, and I told myself that I would only stop if I could find a close parking spot. Luckily there was one, and I’m now the proud owner of a Chicago Public library card.

Yesterday a true sense of dread came over me when I realized that in a few short months there will be snow covering the ground. And I will still have to find somewhere to park. And Jacob will be in Flint for 6 weeks for a surgery rotation. This is not going to end well. Parking in the city may be the end of me.

the late ride.

Jacob and I went to bed at 5:30 {in the morning} on Saturday night/Sunday morning. It’s not what you think. We weren’t off gallivanting around Chicago, going to clubs, dancing the night away. We were the fools in bike helmets biking past those clubs. Yes, on Saturday night Jacob and I with my sister and her almost-hubby Brandyn rode 25 miles around the city. It’s known as the “late ride” and it is just that: it’s extremely late and it’s not a race…. It’s a ride.

Here’s a basic timeline of the whole shabang:

Saturday:

11:30 AM: Dismay sets in as Jacob and I realize we have to stay up all night.

3 PM: We set off on the adventure known as ikea. Because that’s how we train for bikes rides. We buy shelves.

6 PM: We carbo load with French bread. And salmon. It’s delicious.

9 PM: Curl up on the coach… watch three episodes of How I Met Your Mother. We’re deep in denial that we don’t get to go to sleep.

9: 17 PM: I drink a pot of coffee. Myself.

10:30 PM: Horror set in. And sleepiness. Emily and Brandyn show up from a wedding {typical} and take residence on our bed for a much needed nap.

11:30 PM: PANIC!!! Jacob and I can’t find anything we need for the race. Adrenaline sets in and we perk up while looking for a backpack to carry. Luckily Emily has two. Crisis averted.

11:45 PM: The four of us load our bikes into Brayndon’s truck and start the 20 minute trek to Millennium Park parking. We hit a ridiculous amount of traffic heading into the city. Evidently we are alone in our desire to be asleep at that very moment.

Sunday:

12:15 AM: We arrive at Buckingham Fountain. Pick up free water bottles. Brandyn sucks down a 5 hour energy.

12:45 AM: Time to line up! We make our way to the front of the line {since I’m amazing and got to packet pickup super early to ensure we’re in the first wave}.

1:00 AM: We’re off!! In a great mood despite going quit slow and stopping for red lights.

1:07 AM: My butt starts to hurt.

1:30 AM: This just in: drunks love yelling at people on bikes.

1:40 AM: We bike through Greek town. Also just in: drunks who happen to be Greek absolutely LOVE yelling at people on bikes.

2:40 AM: HALF WAY point!! We stop for luna bars and energy drinks. We pillage at least $45 worth of Luna bars.

3:10 AM: Back on the bike.

3:11 AM: I desperately wish we weren’t back on the bikes.

3:17 AM: The streets are emptying out. Normal people and most semi-normal people who enjoy clubbing are at home tucked into their bed.

3:31 AM: We make it to the lake. Now there are no red lights to give us a much needed break to rehydrate.

3:47 AM: Just keep biking. Just keep biking. Just keep biking.

3:51 AM: Just keep biking. Just keep biking. Just keep biking.

3:54 AM: Jacob and I realize that Jeremy ran the same distance {longer actually} in the same amount of time. I resolve to never run a marathon.

3:59 AM: Just keep biking. Just keep biking. Just keep biking.

4:12 AM: Sweet victory. We’ve survived.

4:13 AM: Stand in line for “breakfast.” {it did not include bacon as all breakfasts after a 25 mile bike ride should.}

4:17 AM: BACK ON OUR BIKES! The 4 minute bike ride back to the car is torture.

4:32 AM: Make it to our apt. Stumble around putting our bikes away, setting up beds {plural} for Em and Brandyn.

4:42 AM: Fall into bed still clothed and a sweaty mess.

KLJDFKLJS AM: The shower is available. Focus on not falling asleep while washing my hair.

Kalsdjfasdkljf AM: Sweet relief. SLEEP.

9 AM: Emily and Brandyn leave. I think. I have a vague memory of them telling us they were going.

12 PM: I get out of bed and make eggs and BACON for second breakfast.

1:30 PM: NAP.

3:30 PM: Jacob and I realize our front door has been unlocked since Emily and Brandyn left.

3:47 PM: We get up from the couch and lock the front door.

6:00 PM: Sushi. Naturally.

And that, ladies and gentleman, was The Late Ride.

We came. We biked. We conquered.

wedding geek out

Dear 7 blog followers,

Please click here, gasp a little bit then leave me (and the fantastic Julie Harmsen) some love (in the form of comments).

Yours truly,

Robin

Successful 4th of July

Thanks to my cousin Dan and his beautiful new wife Maria, Jacob and I celebrated the holiday weekend in the mitten state. This was the second wedding Jacob, and I have been to since our own wedding, and it’s a very different experience to go to a wedding married than going single or dating and especially engaged.

So here is my list of why going to weddings as a completely married lady is way better than not being married:

• You don’t have to catch the garter. Or in my case, pretend to try to catch the bouquet while actively trying not to catch the garter. It’s actually pretty easy to not catch a bouque. But now I don’t even have to get my butt out on the dance floor to the tune of All the Single Ladies.
• I can give actual advice to the bride. The best advice I got was to take a few minutes throughout the day and take everything in. This is advice I will be passing on.
• Weddings are no longer events to be lived up to. I can’t get any ideas or tips or inspiration. I’ve already planned my perfect day. I set the bar for summer 2011. It was pretty high. Good luck to any future brides (aka my sister) who need to live up to my wedding.
• There are no awkward comments from distant relatives to both me and my significant other on when we’ll be walking down the aisle. Now we just get questions about when we’re going to produce a grand-grandchild for my grandma. We’ve been married a month people. Let’s be realistic here.

So the moral of the story…. Being married is awesome. And I’m so happy for my new cousin-in-law Maria who can now join me with silently judging all the single ladies vying for position to catch the garter. Only she’s really nice. So she may just sit there smiling while I secretly judge. And that’s why we love her.

My grat list for the holiday weekend (because sharing your gratitudes is important):

• Spring Lake with my sis and future brother-in-law!!!
• Flouting the river and NOT getting sun burned. Thank you SPF 70.
• Aunt Annette’s buckeye balls on the wedding desert table.
• Not having to catch the bouquet. (I’m really happy about this if you can’t tell).
• Really complicated board games. That I'm good at.