Dead on my feet.
Being married to a midwife means the phone is never on vibrate. Because she's got a practice with two different EHRs and a ridiculously complex failover phone system (designed and implemented by moi) there's
- EHR notifications
- Phone calls
- Urgent pages
- Non-urgent pages
- What'sApp notifications (HIPAA-compliant group texts! Who knew!)
...all of which have their own sounds. Which means if my wife has a pregnant mom with insomnia who decides to fill out her forms at 2am, I get the sound of a screeching parrot or some shit.
Apparently the bellowing elephant is the "urgent page." So that was midnight. Which means 1am to get to bed. Then the kid wakes up at 4am to see if mommy's home. Then I have to get up to go to school at 5:30. Which goes until 4pm, and then traffic until 5. Meanwhile, the wife has been gone since 11pm last night. I guess baby number 2 just got delivered. That leaves eight for the month.
Things haven't been restful, either. Today was split between "try not to crash a Haas VF-3 you weren't expecting to drive"
And slapping another hundred or so 1.25mm CZs in that pave ring.
I draw some comfort from the fact that there aren't many people who do both of those in one day.
My buddy Kyle texted me from New York because he's trying to decide between treating himself to an $80k MB&F HM-1 in steel (1 of 20) or a $111k MB&F HM-1 in titanium (1 of 33).
It's good to be Kyle.