January 20

I haven't been to work in nearly a week. It's a bit rebellious for me, because I have not taken longer than a four-day weekend since my maternity leave--three years ago. Everyone likes to believe that they are truly indispensable at work, and I actually am. Trust me, it's not as terrific as you'd think. When I was on maternity leave, my boss called me to say, "I'm sorry I told you that a trained monkey could do your job. Will you come back now?" I did agree to one day a week. I am pretty sure the only way I could escape their relentless neediness would be to leave the country, and even that is doubtful, with the widespread mobile capabilities.

So, last week when I announced that I was taking a few days off, I told them that if they called or texted not to expect an immediate response. My co-worker stared at me and said, "You mean to tell me that you expect us to figure it out on our own?"

Since I haven't been at work, I haven't bothered to look at a calendar, since there was really no need. Then I noticed the date on my earlier blog post: January 20. The Soul Mate's birthday. He is approximately five years, one month and three days older than I am. No matter what, I will probably know this bit of trivia until the day I die, like it or not. For no real, logical or practical reason, it is burned into my soul like November 22, 1963; or 9/11; or 02/07/07.

Just one of those things that you never forget, I guess.