She works hard for the money

If you're a child of the eighties like me, it's likely that you danced around to Donna Summer's 'She works hard for the money' with a mop or broom in hand. Though perhaps not as likely to admit it (you are probably thinking 'Have you NO SHAME?!?' -The short answer is no, not really...but that is a different topic altogether). I think I first heard it watching some Disney show where Cinderella was dancing around to the song. Unfortunately I wasn't watching in Disneyland with Mickey in fulfillment of all my 5 year old fantasies. Rather I was in Samoa, with my head at an angle, trying to make out what was happening through all the 'snow' on a fuzzy tv screen, that was trying but not really succeeding, at picking up a signal from Pago. Nevertheless it had a big impact on me. Obviously I related to a girl who only had to do a bit of housework before being whisked away to a ball.

So, for my first week back at work after almost 7 months of maternity leave, it was the soundtrack in my head. I was rocking to it while I was in meetings, having serious discussions and generally being very busy and important! Of course my work is a lot different from Cinderella's. No chimneys or ashes are involved, my boss is no evil step-mother, my colleagues are not demanding step-sisters who need a reality check about their real charms, and (very sadly) there are no helpful little dancing and singing mice. Still, after 7 wonderful months of FREEDOM mat leave I expected to feel very sorry for myself.

But (to my surprise) it really wasn't all that bad. My office had physically moved to (very plush) new premises in my absence. So a lot of time had to be spent admiring the natural light and the panoramic views of the city (both of which were noticibly absent in the previous premises).

The first day my love, brought in the bub and a lovely picnic lunch, and took me to the Royal Botanic Gardens. The sun shone down and I susu-ed Lagi lying down on a picnic rug in the park overlooking the Opera House and Sydney Harbour Bridge. This was truly lovely except for the fact that I was competing with an ibis, and apparently my bub takes after the ancient Egyptians in finding them fascinating. After that first day though, my smart little one realised he had to make the most of the opportunity and would latch on with gusto every lunch time and when I hurried home to him every night. So though I missed him and his beautiful smile, I knew he was with my mum and his dad who love him almost as much as I do and who can look after him almost as well as I can.

Of course I was bombarded with e-mails *bing, bing, bing, bing*. But this was exciting as well as slightly overwhelming. It's amazing what excites you after you have been away from work for so long.

So it really wasn't all that bad. But it's Sunday now, and I'm looking down the barrel of another work week. And I find myself humming *she works hard for the money, so hard for it honey*.... and thinking 'Where's my bloody pumpkin?'