author_by_night | A Letter to My 9-5less Friends

After reading countless letters and seeing countless vlogs by parents apologizing to their childless friends, I decided to write up an apology of my own as someone with a full time job.

Dear 9-5less friends,

Look, I get it. I have your numbers on speed dial, but you don't hear from me. For shame! Fear not - I have an explanation. You see, I am now married to my job, and together we have a beautiful phone that blesses the office with its constant ringing and a printer with an unpredictable personality. You say you understand, but I don't think you really understand. So let me explain it to you clearly.

When you have a 9-5 job, you don't get to sleep in. You actually have to wake up before noon and put on nice clothing. That's right, bestie - no jeans and a crappy t-shirt anymore! (Even the tacky one you bought me for Christmas - not tacky like ew, tacky like you wouldn't wear it in public, but it'd be cool for a movie marathon night. Which I don't have time for anymore. Because I'm totes like a professional now.) You have to wear pants that look nice, shirts that look nice, and not just when you're going clubbing or to a PTA meeting. :)

You also don't get to eat. Nope; lunch break is a myth. There's times you actually have to put down your food and walk away from it. It's something 9-5less people just can't relate to; after all, you have luxurious lives of being able to eat all three meals without trouble! I know what you're saying - "My shift starts at four and ends at two in the morning! I don't get dinner!" Sweetie, you work in a restaurant. You're like surrounded by food all the time, and you're seriously telling me you never get a chance to eat? Come on. The other thing I get a lot is "I have kids! I have to feed them first!" Uh, just eat all the green food they're not going to eat anyway.

Week nights? That's a huge no. Week nights are when I come home, talk to my cats in a creepy voice for ten minutes, then eat food. I'm so depraved I actually have to eat food I bought myself; it's not like I have the time to just go somewhere, and because I don't have kids and a soccer Mom van, I don't have an excuse to get fast food. Plus, places cost money, yes, even when you have a job.

Saturdays? Ooh, those are bad. See, Saturdays are when I realize I've woken up late every day that week and hung my clothes on the ceiling fan and in the oven because I thought my t-shirt was a waffle. Which is totally something working people do all the time unless they're rich enough to have a housekeeper. Sundays are recovery from being disheveled. But I can hang out with you for ten minutes and talk on the phone with you for fifteen minutes on either of those days, for sure. Just as long as you don't mind me chewing gum loudly (I don't get to chew gum at work) and vaccuming in the background. Wanna come over? Sure, but don't bring the kid, he'll get his hands all over everything I just washed.

So if you want to be my friend, but you are 9-5less? That's the criteria. Please don't take it personally if I cut you off from my life, because it's not that I don't still love you. I guess you could say I'm just a little clocked in at the moment. If worse comes to worse, I promise when I retire at 75, we can totes catch up then. :)

Love you muchly!

Your BFF (really and truly),

Charity Bennett-Higinbothom*

*Not my real name.

(Also, if anyone is concerned about the nature of this piece, see the tags.)